


Unicorns

by Ladyfun



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Femslash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-04-25 06:39:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 105,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4950433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyfun/pseuds/Ladyfun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The light prevailed, allowing love to bloom, and friendships to be forged.  The unexpected camaraderie  between Hermione, Narcissa and Gabrielle, brings someone back into Hermione's life that will change it,  forever.   No murder, no Voldemort. Begins five years post-war, celebrating life as it should be lived while recognizing the true courage it takes to live and love, afterwards.<br/>Most importantly, serious Fleurmione goodness ahead!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. She Kissed Me!

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Ladyfun:  
> So, this is a little Fleurmione endeavor I wrote with the magnificent TiAdoro914. She hasn't joined the cool kids over here at AO3, so that's why she's not listed officially. Apologies, but this is a dual effort, without question. It has a long arc and we can’t wait to share it all. Although Hermione and Fleur are without question the centerpiece, this is also about the friendships made along the way. 
> 
> A/N: TiAdoro914:  
> I fail to explain the happiness I've experienced writing this tale with my dearest LadyFun. It was written for pure enjoyment and to share our version of love with this little HP femslash community. It's not our jobs, it's not our profession, it is done with joy and love, so please be kind as you read. It was also written as a Thank You to all of the talented writers who share their imaginations and gifts with us everyday. If I have left comments on your stories, then this is for you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TITLE: Unicorns
> 
> AUTHORS: Ladyfun & TiAdoro914 Collaboration
> 
> This is a re-edit of chapter one...
> 
> PAIRING: Fleurmione  
> DISCLAIMERS: We own none of this, it all belongs to JK. It's her world, we just live in it. Good non-profit fun with loads of femslash.  
> SUMMARY: The Love and friendship forged between Hermione, Narcissa and Gabrielle, brings someone back into Hermione's life that will change it forever. No murder, no Voldemort. Begins five years post-war, celebrating life after the light won, and the true courage it takes to live life, afterward. Fleurmione goodness!

CHAPTER 1: She Kissed Me

She kissed me. She just kissed me!

I'd never seen stars before, when anyone else has kissed me... not that many people had. But definitely not stars. Or rainbows. And unicorns. Unicorns!

I saw unicorns!

My friends would tell me what it felt like to kiss someone, to feel such passion and I just never understood. Until now.

When she kissed me.

My world, that was solid and knowing, and predictable, for the moment? It just suddenly flipped on its head. And nothing was ever going to be the same again. Was it? It couldn't. No way! Because... she kissed me. And something I never knew I was missing, was found.

Found in the most unlikely of places: in the softest of lips, and in the most delicious of blue eyes that captured my heart, connecting it to hers, with just a look. Because in this moment, Fleur Delacour was kissing me, Hermione Jean Granger...

...and it was more than anything I could have ever dreamed.

XOXOXOXOXOXO

Three Weeks Prior

The rite of passage that came every fall came quickly that year. Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry would, once again, be back in session in three short weeks.

In three short weeks, students would be gracing the halls of the storied institution. First years, eyes wide, nervously looking up at the storied castle, wondering what life would be like, now that they were here; Seventh years, running in, taking shortcuts to get to classes faster, and feeling on top of the world; and everyone else, anxious to see their friends, and resume life at the castle.

Hogwarts was a home of magic, mystery, learning, and safety for most of the students who graced the halls.

It was also home, one should be reminded, for the professors, as well. Veterans and newcomers alike, all educators, who were just getting settled to their home as well, in preparation for the upcoming year.

One such person was Hogwarts's famous Professor, Professor Hermione Granger.

It was her second year teaching transfiguration at Hogwarts. The adoring public had very publicly documented her journey to that position. Following the end of the war, five years prior, Professor Granger, then Hermione Granger, the famous war veteran and member of the Golden Trio, had returned to Hogwarts to finish her N.E.W.T.s. As reported in the Daily Prophet, along with every other minutiae of her life that they reported, she received Outstandings in all subjects, surprising no one but herself. Following that and graduation, the next three years had been focused on putting herself back together, figuring out exactly what she wanted to do with her life.

For the first time in forever, Hermione Jean Granger was able to contemplate life...now that it was her life, once again.

She, like everyone else, could now bask in the luxury of indecision, struggling to decide what her future would look like. As a member of the Golden Trio, the brains of the operation, the legend of how she had helped to bring safety and order back into the world was well known. To her dismay, it would appear they would not soon be forgotten, either. Regardless, it had been a long time since she was able to be...indecisive.

As Hermione reflected what she wanted and where, she realized she considered Hogwarts her home; more so than that of her childhood residence. Although she had recovered her parents from Australia, restoring their memories with the help of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, their relationship currently was rather tepid. She had spent many months in their re-assimilation, post memory recovery, and helping them to understand the reasons she had for sending them away to safety. Home now, entrenched once again in their dental practice, it was business as usual. Their relationship with their only daughter was not easy. They still failed to fully understand the world in which she now lived, nor did they have a desire to, if truth be told.

But they were alive, and safe, she reasoned to herself. That was what mattered.

She compartmentalized the gnawing at her heart, from the chasm that existed between them. She ignored the things she didn't have, trying to focus on what she did.

When her mentor, and friend, Minerva McGonagall approached her to come back to Hogwarts, in a faculty position, it was a Godsend. She asked the former Gryffindor to help shape the future of the wizarding world as a professor, and Hermione's heart jumped. She finally felt as though her life was falling into place. So she accepted, on the spot.

Her first year teaching was…interesting, to say the least.

Who knew that so much happened behind the scenes at Hogwarts? So many goings-on, in order to make it run so smoothly for the students...it was mind-boggling! Hermione loved being back in the familiar setting. That familiarity was something she craved. She felt alive, shaping her students' minds, and infecting them with the love of learning. It seemed to be destiny for the former Gryffindor to share her passion and energy with the young wizards and witches, of Hogwarts. Minerva had expected that to be the case. Hermione seemed to effortlessly transition into her new life, post-war.

What she hadn't expected, however, was developing a friendship with an unusual ally.

An ally…a beautiful blonde, whom Hermione had known previously- albeit not very well-would soon become one of her closest friends. Almost immediately, she became joined at the hip to her fellow junior professor, Professor Gabrielle Delacour.

Professor Delacour, the outrageous yet talented professor, a few years her junior, had joined the faculty at Hogwarts as well. Post graduation from Beauxbatons, Gaby felt an unspoken pull toward England; she craved being closer to her beloved sister, Fleur, who still resided in England. She was the type to love new experiences, and she was feeling adventurous.

Thus, following her passion, she lobbied for the post of Professor for the Care of Magical Creatures at Hogwarts. As she would with many things over the years, the headstrong blonde would eventually wear down Minerva, who relented and finally hired her.

"You will not regret zis, 'eadmistress!" She reassured Minerva. "When 'ave you 'ad somzing so good to look at, in zis class? Watch ze census for zis elective go up a 'undred percent!" She gushed, with a cheeky (and prophetic) grin.

Hogwarts provided the perfect excuse to leave France, following her messy, continuously awful, and protracted breakup with her now ex-boyfriend. She fell into England more naturally than anticipated. Unbeknownst to her when she joined the faculty, she would be doing so the same year as the famous war veteran, the Golden Girl. The woman who was fated to become one of her best friends...and more.

While Hermione had been familiar with the young, beautiful Veela from Gaby's past visit to Hogwarts during her sisters' participation in the Triwizard Tournament, Hermione was shocked to realize Gabrielle had grown up. She had grown into quite a hysterically funny, amazing, and strikingly beautiful woman, since they last met.

Their friendship was solidified during their first year teaching together. The two junior professors leaned on one another, navigating their new world order, almost instantly.

Gaby had a talent for making the overly serious Hermione Granger laugh, like no one else. Hermione realized she had very few female friendships like Gaby's, ones that were so easy. Although reminiscent of the rare happy times in her past when she would laugh with "Red," (the now famous Quiddich sensation, Mrs. Ginny Potter) it was also very different. While Ginny and Gaby's humor was oddly similar, and equally off-color, there was something very unthreatening about Gaby, despite her obscenely good looks.

The feeling was mutual. For Gaby's part, she treated Hermione like a precious gem; the rare person who wasn't affected by her thrall, in the least, and seemed to genuinely like her company.

Gaby lessened the sting of missing her friends, without question. Hermione missed Harry and Ginny, as they did not see each other as often as they all would like. Thankfully, Ginny had been able to move past her and Ron's breakup, early on; she never made issue of it. Everyone moved on.

Now, her friend, Ginny, and her best friend, Harry Potter, were finally happy together. Although Hermione and Ron did not find a similar happily ever after, and had drifted apart without Voldemort to tie them together, thankfully, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione's friendship had remained solid. Unfortunately, their divergent lives left them seeing one another less frequently than any of them would like.

It turned out to be a blessing that Hermione had inherited an insane Frenchwoman, apparently, to keep her from taking herself too seriously, or from the affliction of loneliness.

XOXOXOXOXO

"Mon Dieu, 'ermione!" exclaimed Gaby, as she turned down the hallway, nearing the Professors' quarters. "Tell me I don't 'ave to 'oist your ass on my back and carry you, beetch!" The gorgeous blonde hollered, into Hermione's room. "Eet's time for our first staff meeting! Vat are you doing wiz all zis...daydreaming, Chou? I zought zat you are ze obsessive about being on time, GG, n'est-ce pas? "

"GG", or "the Golden Girl", laughed at her inappropriate friend. Hermione walked out of her room, smiling warmly at Gaby, and grabbed the Veela's hand.

"On ze back?" She teased.

"No, thank you, Gaby. My legs work, just fine."

"Oui, bien! Parce-que...you look like you gained few, over ze summer." She ducked Hermione's swat, and the two professors proceeded to make their way to the faculty room, laughing, hand in hand.

"Incroyable...can you believe we survived our first year? Quite 'appily, I might add, oui?" Gaby asked, as they walked.

"Yes, Gaby, we survived. Furthermore, I'm so looking forward to starting this year without the nerves I felt, from last year!" The former Hogwarts alum allowed a look of clear relief to cross her expression.

Gaby laughed in agreement. The younger professor remembered how they both were terrified, yet thrilled, on their first day of classes…but for very different reasons. Then, everyone knew Hermione, the famous "Golden Girl." As the brains of the Golden Trio, she was worshiped and adored; but she was clearly also feared.

The expectations were tremendous.

The students, gawking, expected her to be a tough teacher, as she was rumored to be smarter than most everyone they had ever met, ever. Hermione feared they would not be able to look past her urban myth and history, but the young students quickly lost sight of the fact that it was Golden Girl, and she evolved into just their professor, as they fell in love with her teaching. She infused her infectious energy and passion for knowledge into every day, and it was too enticing for the youngsters to deny.

Gaby, however, had nerves for other reasons. The Hogwarts interloper wondered, Would her English be good enough? Was she old enough to command the room? Would the young witches and wizards respect her? Most pressing, weighing heaviest on her heart, was her concern if the students would be able to see her for her, and not gaze at her adoringly because of her Veela thrall.

It was rough going for the French witch, at first. The thrall proved to be somewhat problematic, at first. However, her pluck and her knowledge about her subject matter, coupled with her humor and easy laughter, transformed her into a beloved Professor to the Hogwarts students, almost immediately.

Hermione and Gaby smiled at each other, reflecting.

However, the door of the faculty conference room was quickly upon them, snapping them back to reality. The ghosts of their first year behind them, Gaby and Hermione walked in, entering the raucous faculty lounge. Their eyes both connect with the austere woman up front, who immediately gave them an amused and comforting smile. With a small wave to their respected Headmistress, they both made their way to sit down, amidst hollers of greetings from their fellow educators.

Shortly thereafter, the door swung open, again. The reception, this time, from the facility was much...cooler.

Following the arrival of the two popular younger teachers, when the door opened a second time to allow the next new faculty member, this one was a shock. The entrance of a demure, yet regal woman, a new hire to Hogwarts, as evidenced by the gasps, was clearly unanticipated.

In walked the newest cadre member of Hogwarts, one with shiny blond hair, beautiful red lips, and ensconced in light green robes.

She was the type of a woman one noticed, no question. A shy smile served a contrast to her outer facade, however, and made her arrival seem...less threatening. The room was silent, with everyone seeming to be holding a collective breath. Hermione looked around at the group, quickly assessing the rapidly escalating situation; she stood to greet the new professor.

While she had been as in the dark as everyone else, Hermione trusted Minerva's judgment. The transfiguration professor was very aware the controversial new hire's entrance could be met with admiration…. or disdain and hesitancy, alike.

Gabrielle, completely unaware of the back history, looked around, frowning in confusion, and looked to her friend, for explaination. Gaby saw the familiar resolve she had grown familiar with, in her friend's face. It was no surprise to the Veela when The Golden Girl stood, and broke the silence.

"Narcissa!" Hermione called, warmly. "Welcome to Hogwarts!"

Murmurs broke out through the room. Hermione merely ignored them, continuing on, "We, and our students, are so lucky to have you here with us this year!" Hermione pushed through the crowd, who cleared a path for the legendary professor, and watched Hermione push through, dumbstruck. They watched the most famous muggleborn in history move to grab the surprised pureblood's hand.

The determine brunette grasped Narcissa's hand, and pulled the shocked older woman in the direction of her and Gaby's table, with the clear intention of having her sit with them. Hermione exchanged a look with Gaby, clearly sending a message, to which Gaby nodded in understanding. Gaby began shoo-ing the people around at their table, to make room for the new addition.

Catching Minerva's grateful eye, Hermione looked at the Headmistress as she dragged Narcissa Black through the room in hand, and winked back at Minerva. Once the initial shock died down, at least everyone had the manners to stop staring, after a bit, and soon, the regular noise of the room continued. Narcissa exhaled finally, as they neared Hermione's table. She smiled gratefully at the former Gryffindor, a curious look on her face.

Since the war ended, Narcissa Black, née Malfoy, had spent her time finding her passions again, like everyone else.

As a young Slytherin girl, she had excelled in school, much like her older sisters. She felt such joy as a child in learning, reading, and expanding her mind. Hogwarts had been an escape, a veritable safe haven from her overbearing and awful parents; a place where she could be herself, happily in the library or running around with her sisters.

However, that all changed for her, when Bellatrix became involved with the Dark Lord, and her parents betrothed her to Lucius Malfoy. She went from a woman who had bright ideas of her future, to a simple housewife of whom little was expected. While she grew to love her husband, her life was never quite what she had envisioned as young girl, roaming the halls at Hogwarts. The war put her in a position she never imagined. Her days were spent, fighting to keep her son safe, as her sole focus, for years on end.

Five years later, her husband had passed, her son was safe, and she found her love of healing return, back to the surface.

She had fought her way into being seen as the woman she was today, and not the woman she had become during the war. This opportunity was, in large part, due to Harry's defending her, which she would never forget. After much debate, she and Draco were free, and she would be forever grateful to the young Gryffindor who had found it in his heart to forgive.

These five years had not been easy. Redemption never is. However, for Narcissa Black, for the first time in as long as she could remember, when she thought of her future, she thought of ...hope. Once again, there existed the possibility of what her future could become, again.

They finally made it to the table, which was one of the longest walk's of Narcissa's life, with Hermione's hand firmly encased in her own, as if to defend the slings and arrows. Narcissa started at it, amazed.

So petite, Narcissa thought. Such a little hand. And yet, it held the entire world in it, aloft.

Unclenching her grip, she release Narcissa's hand and they moved sit down. Hermione hissed, "So...what are you doing here, Madame Black?"

The older woman whispered as she organized her things to sit, "Minerva hired me, recently. I'm happy to say, I have the honor of taking Nurse Pomfrey's place here at Hogwarts, Hermione!" A genuine look of happiness crossed Narcissa face, a look Hermione realized she hadn't ever seen on the regal woman, before. " I can't believe a dream of mine that began when I was just a student here, is coming to life so many years later!"

Hermione nodded, smiling, taking a seat, as well. She looked from the new arrival, and gestured towards Professor Delacour.

"And, who ze 'ell iz zis?" Gaby grinned, giving Narcissa the up and down. "Zat waz one 'ell of an entrance, Madame!"

"Gaby, I'd like you to meet Narcissa Black. Narcissa is now the head Healer at Hogwarts." The younger blonde, finishing her critical assessment of the older blonde, reassured.

Gaby laughed, and immediately, the air seemed lighter.

"Salut! I zink zat I am pleezed to make your acquaintance, Narcissa! A 'ealer, ay?" She shook her platinum blonde tresses, and made a melodramatic sigh. "I 'ope zat you are ready wiz ze bandages! Because in three weeks I zink zat you will be busier zan you ever thought possible! Zees little ones are…'ow you say… crazy!"

Hermione and Narcissa continued to laugh at Gaby's bawdy and often inappropriate observations regarding the state of the Hogwarts student body.

Hermione Granger was no fool. She knew what she was doing.

The Golden Girl observed everyone in the room observing them. With each relaxed laugh between the three of them, Narcissa and Gaby passionately arguing over what position in Quidditch was most violent, she watched the room's hesitancy dissipate. When she walked in, it could have gone one of many ways.

Understandably, the faculty members were initially unsure of how to greet Narcissa Black. Right away, Hermione had changed the conversation. The subconscious general consensus became, 'If the Golden Girl is okay with it, then we're bloody okay with it, as well.'

That didn't mean they weren't wary, however.

The more cautious professors, especially the ones that had survived the first wizarding war, would each take their time determining the true intentions of the once-feared woman, regardless of the endorsement of the very worshiped Professor Hermione Granger.

Poisonous toadstools don't change their spots, after all.

TBC.


	2. Bliss And Confusion

**CHAPTER 2. BLISS AND CONFUSION**

The two Order of Merlin recipients stood awkwardly in the hallway, at the entranceway of Hermione's chambers. Fleur and Hermione regarded one other; the younger witch clearly the more nervous of the two. Hermione cleared her throat.

"Um, Fleur…" Hermione's mind raced to think of an excuse to extend their time. "Ah...would you like to come in for some…tea? After all the wine tonight, some tea might be nice before bed."

Fleur raised one sculpted eyebrow.

The Frenchwoman looked so hopelessly elegant with that simple gesture. Hermione stared at her lips, as they formed the words, "some…tea?" Fleur asked, deliberately. The gorgeous woman smiled her trademark dazzling smile. "Mais, oui. I zink zat I would love to come in for some… _tea_."

Never had the word "tea" sounded so avaricious, or so sexy, to Hermione's nervous recollection. She fumbled with her wand, her nerves discombobulated slightly, as she attempted to unward her chambers.

"Merlin's Beard..." The professor mumbled, uncharacteristically awkward. The older witch stepped towards her. "Here…let me." Fleur said, calmly.

She leaned, deliberately, against Hermione with her wand, reaching across her body closer than was required, in order to perform the spells. The effort caused Hermione's heart to beat slightly faster, as she watched the blonde. With a wink, Fleur unleashed a series of rapid spells, immediately neutralizing all of Hermione's complex wards.

Hermione's nerves were forgotten as she regarded the older witch, impressed.

"Wow, Fleur, that's…amazing! How did you undo my wards? Even Minerva is unable to do that!"

Fleur shrugged. "Eet waz nozzing. I do zat, in my line of work. Eet's my job." With a grin, she pushed open Hermione's doorway, gallantly motioning Hermione in, first. "Aprez-vous, Mademoiselle?"

"Er…thank you, Mademoiselle Delacour." Stepping in to her meticulously organized quarters, she crossed over to her kitchenette. "What kind of tea would you like?"

Fleur's eyes were becoming dark, as she remained quiet.

"Fleur?" Hermione held up two boxes. "Tea?"

"Hmm." Fleur said, quietly, as she moved towards the former Gryffindor. "I changed my mind, I zink." She stood, directly in front of Hermione, staring down at her intently. "No... tea."

Hermione swallowed. "No tea?" She clarified, her throat going dry. She could barely meet the intense gaze of the beautiful woman's stare, boring down on her. Fleur reached over, and gently took the boxes from Hermione's trembling hands setting them back on the counter behind her. Hermione swallowed, as she felt Fleur press against her, forcing Hermione's back against the counter behind them.

"Oui, zat iz correct, 'ermione," Fleur said, in a near growl. "No tea."

Hermione licked her lips, with a faint tremble. "Okay." She responded.

Fleur's eyes seemed to have flecks of red and gold that would dance in and out of her iris, intermittently. Fleur's voice dropped, lower. "Toutefois...I will 'ave somezing else, instead, I zink."

Hermione felt almost dizzy, as she watched the dazzling blonde leaning in towards her, her intent clearly displayed in her determined gaze. Hermione's breath caught in her chest, as she felt the improbable inevitability that Fleur Delacour's lips were seconds away from connecting with her own. Then, time stopped for Hermione, as the softest lips she had ever known, connected gracefully with her own.

She kissed me. Hermione thought. She just kissed me. I'd never seen stars before when anyone else has kissed me, not that many people had. But definitely not stars. Or rainbows. And unicorns. Unicorns! I saw unicorns!

Hermione's thoughts were in a jumbled mess, as the lips pressed more firmly against her own. My friends would tell me what it felt like to kiss someone, to feel passion… and I just never understood. The brunette trembled, as she felt Fleur's arms snake around her hips, pulling Hermione closer to her.

Until now, Hermione thought. When she kissed me.

The pragmatic member of the Golden Trio realized that her world, that was once solid and knowing, and predictable was just suddenly flipped on its head. Hermione immediately recognized while her hands, with a mind of their own, were drifting upwards, her fingers raking though the softest hair she had ever felt in her life. As she stroked the Veela's blonde hair, the moan that issued from Fleur's mouth from Hermione's deliberate touch, caused Hermione's core to clench. Hermione trembled, as she put her right hand on the back of Fleur's neck, and pulled her closer. Hermione let out a tiny gasp as Fleur pressed her mouth against Hermione's, hungrily, as her tongue parted the younger woman's lips, seeking entrance. Hermione shuddered. She thought to herself, with a sudden realization, nothing was ever going to be the same again. Was it? She wondered. Hermione felt herself trembling, as Fleur's tongue probed intently in insides of her mouth, seeking.

Needing.

Hermione moaned, as she felt all of Fleur's possessiveness and her obvious desire, as she pressed harder against Hermione's mouth. The brunette trembled, realizing that nothing would be the same again. Hermione's thoughts were in a jumble. The same? It couldn't. No way. Because she's kissing me! The brunette let out an involuntary moan, as Fleur's hands drifted down her sides, stroking a trail down the trembling younger woman's body, then suddenly moving upwards, deliberately. Something I never knew I was missing…is found. Hermione thought. And it's been found in the most unlikely of places. In the softest of lips, the most delicious blue eyes that have captured my heart and connected hers to mine. Because in this moment, Fleur Delacour was kissing me, Hermione Jean Granger!

"Fleur...ohhh, I..." Hermione murmured, incoherently, as Fleur's hand landed on her stomach, right below her breast, her skin on fire from the entirety of her touch. Hermione let herself be pressed against the counter more fully, as Fleur pinned her, pressing her backwards, then leaning in, against her. The Veela looked almost possessed, uttering incomprehensible words, in a low growl, in French. Ghosting her finger pads against Fleur's skin, She felt the swell of Fleur's breasts press into her own.

Fleur's body felt…amazing.

Hermione summoned all her strength, in order to pull back, and somehow detach her lips from Fleur's temptations. Hermione was looking, searching...she scanned the Cerulean blue eyes of the woman above her. Hermione felt some unspoken question answered, in that moment, after taking in Fleur's consumed expression, filled with desire and want, coupled with that intense gaze of hers, obviously aroused, but more importantly, completely earnest.

Hermione allowed a shy smile slide to cross her face. The brunette thought, with some finality, In this moment, it was more than anything I could have ever dreamed. Resolved, in a move that was Oh So Gryffindor, the little lion took the older woman's hand in her own, turning, and walking towards the direction of her bedroom.

In her attempt to quell her own nerves, she had completely missed the shocked and blissfully dazed expression of the blonde in tow, behind her.

**XOXOXOXO**

Hermione felt like she was burning up.

Everything she ever pondered recently about those previously nonexistent emotions in her life, were now clear to her, with certainty. As she felt the captivating touch of Fleur Delacour stroke across her body, she finally understood. She understood this was what passion felt like. She understood this was what it meant to desire someone. A kiss, a special kiss, was all it took. It catalyzed a part of Hermione that she didn't know existed, deep within her, focusing her on one singular purpose: exploring Fleur Delacour in every possible manner.

As they made it to her bedroom, both panting, and clawing at one another, Hermione had a moment of self-doubt bubble up, unexpectedly. She turned, suddenly nervous, to look at this stunningly beautiful and unbelievably sexy woman in her bedroom. In a single instant, she had evolved from simply 'Fleur, Gaby's sister', 'Triwizard Champion' and 'ex of William Weasley' to a woman who Hermione wanted to reinvent, and devour.

Her Gryffindor courage suddenly simmered down, as shy eyes remained downcast. What if this was a mistake? What if Fleur kissed her by accident? What if she did not want her in the same way Hermione suddenly wanted this incredible woman?Hermione's heart was suddenly pounding, out of her chest, in panic. Fleur sensed Hermione's sudden shift and with her long, elegant finger, placed it gently under the witches chin, slowly lifting that beautiful face to hers.

She smiled. "'ermione," she said slowly, gently, and full of lust. "Stop zinking so hard, ma belle, and kiss me."

And kiss her she did. Soft lips met soft lips. Fleur's tongue once again sought entrance into Hermione's warm mouth. The kiss was slower this time, as want and need poured into this new sensation. Fleur's hands began to caress Hermione's back, slowly lifting her jumper to find that warm smooth skin she knew was hidden away. Hermione gasped. How could such a small touch send such significant shivers all over her body?

While still kissing Fleur and exploring this new and delicious mouth, her hands began to seek out soft skin as well. Gently her hands landed on the French woman's hips. Lifting slowly she ever so lightly she found the skin she was seeking, and with determination to find as much as she could, pulled away from Fleur's lips and sought out those delicious blue eyes. As her hands began to ever so slowly lift her Veela's shirt, she cocked her head to the side, asking for permission to continue this action. Fleur smiled slightly, and nodded, removing her hands from Hermione's back and raised them above her head. Determined to savor this moment, Hermione's hands continued with their mission, while her eyes focused on the incredible beauty in front of her.

A pale, flat stomach appeared. As she continued removing higher, she could not stop herself from gasping as she discovered Fleur's breasts covered in white lace and called to her in a way she could barely process. When did breasts suddenly become something she lusted after, she thought to herself. Her gasp, louder than she realized, caused the blue eyes to smile, and wanting to wait no longer, Fleur quickly ripped her top from her body and crashed her mouth back to Hermione's.

In a frenzy Fleur needed to feel Hermione's skin against her own. She needed it more than she needed air. Pulling the younger witch's jumper off her, swiftly, she turned them around and pushed Hermione down. They both gracefully fell onto Hermione's bed, and Fleur was purring, taking in the beautiful sight before her. Without thinking, she climbed onto Hermione, borderline pouncing; she pressed her body against the younger witch, and both cried out as the pleasure they felt in their moment of tactile connection was the most intense thing either had ever experienced.

If kissing and skin could feel this good, it was frightening to think of what could possibly come next.

Blue eyes bore into brown, wonder and lust passing through both, as open mouths sought each other, desperately. Hands were everywhere, touching the offerings of arms, soft skin, hair and cheeks. Unbeknownst to both witches, a golden haze was slowly beginning to form around them, and pulsing with the addition of each new touch. Hermione's thoughts were becoming unfocused, outside of the singular thought that the only thing in the world that mattered, was touching Fleur.

_Tasting_ Fleur.

Being with... Fleur.

Hermione's powerful brain was nothing but a jumbled mess. She thought to herself, her skin, Oh Merlin, her skin was delectable. It was the softest thing she had ever touched. Right above those delicious, lace-clad breasts was the most dizzying sight; skin that was so pure, so gentle and so soft Hermione could do nothing more than touch and kiss. She was fairly certain she could kiss and caress this skin for hours. Looking back up at Fleur, she noticed her eyes had gone from shocking blues to a much darker shade. Fleur, grabbing Hermione's hand off her chest, slowly pushed it lower. As her hand felt the soft mound of Fleur's breast, the other hand shot off it's place making lazy circles on Fleur's back to her other mound, grasping both with reverie. As she felt Fleur's nipples harden with her touch, the wonderment on her face was evident. This is what heaven felt like, she mused, through the worsening mess clouding her thoughts.

Fleur gazed down at her, willing Hermione to remove the barrier between her and her skin. The Veela was completely consumed, lost in the feelings coursing through her overly aroused body. Pulling back slightly, brown met blue eyes and Fleur tentatively raised her right hand to Hermione's breast, covered in a soft tan bra. Hermione nodded slightly as Fleur touched her softly at first. A moan escaped from the younger witches throat. That was all Fleur needed as she quickly began massaging the woman beneath her. They were the perfect size, fitting exactly into her hands. They were so soft, the perfect weight, and she was dying to see exactly what they looked like beneath that bra.

Not wanting to push the younger woman, but lost in this feeling, in the moment, she sat, up reaching her behind her with the intention of removing her own bra. Looking down at the haze surrounding her, she lost her breath. What was this, she thought to herself. What was going on? Trying to focus all she could see was flashes of light on the sides of her eyes. It was not scary, it was rather pleasant, but unusual. Not truly understanding what was happening, a single tear made it's way down Fleur's face as she gazed adoringly at the younger witch lying beneath her. Hermione looked incredible, hair a mess, lips plump and bruised from passionate kisses, eyes locked on Fleur's.

"Fleur, what's wrong?" Hermione asked gently noticing the tear, suddenly feeling quite vulnerable.

"Itz you, its zis... feeling! Eet iz so much 'ermione. I did not expect zis, I did not ever zink," Fleur was starting to panic, slightly, "sat zis would 'appen ma belle. Je suis desolee..."

Hermione was now growing alarmed. She racked her brain, running though every iteration of the evening, trying to understand. What had just suddenly changed? she wondered. She thought things were going swimmingly, and then all of a sudden, Fleur got wonky, out of the clear blue! She was frustrated, as she had no idea what exactly what Fleur had meant, and she hated this feeling of helplessness

Hermione sensed, however, that someone needed to be calm. She also realized it wasn't going to be Fleur, in this instance. She looked at her, tilting her head on her pillow, waiting for Fleur to continue.

"Fleur, what is it?"

"'ermione, I don't...I don't know. I don't want to stop kissing you, touching you, being close to you...but I zink we need to stop." Hermione's eyes dropped, sadly. Worriedly. Fleur quickly added, "For zee moment, ma belle, just for zee moment."

They both sat up, realizing that something had changed amongst them and between them. Their thoughts were clouded, their hearts were full but both realized that they needed a moment, a moment to process what had just occurred.

"Ma belle," Fleur began slowly, hesitantly, turning to Hermione. Noticing the look of terror in her eyes, an idea began to form, "I zink I would like to take you out on a date. Would that be zomething you would like?" she questioned, hoping that this let Hermione know that she was stopping this not because she did not want the younger witch, because want her she did, but stopping it because she did not want their first time to happen like this. She needed some time to process and knowing the brightest witch of her age as she did, or use too, she felt Hermione would appreciate that as well.

"Oh yes," Hermione breathed out, not realizing she was holding her breathe since the moment Fleur had sat up, "I would love that Fleur."

"Wonderful," she concurred, shyly, leaning in for another tender kiss. "I want you, ma belle, but I want us to get reacquainted first. Would tomorrow night be alright for...reacquainting? For our date, ma belle?"

"Yes Fleur, it would." The brunette agreed.

"Bon!" Abruptly, Fleur was standing, preoccupied with looking for her shirt. This caused Hermione to feel startled, and somewhat suddenly confused, as she lay on the bed, watching Fleur. Successful in re-annexing her shirt to her body, and putting back on, the blonde leaned over towards Hermione, for one more kiss, pressing her lips to Hermione's, and turned to leave.

"Fleur," Hermione said quietly. "I've never…I just…I…" she slowly breathed out.

The intuitive Veela seemed to understand, without the words being spoken. "Je sais, Ma Belle...I know. Tomorrow, 'ermione. Okay? I promise." With that, the Veela left.

**XOXOXOXOXOXO**

The next morning Hermione sat next to Cissy at the staff table looking completely dazed. "Hermione my dear, good morning," Cissy gracefully stated, looking at the younger witch who was so wrapped up in her thoughts she failed to noticed several of the students below looking about right to start a food fight.

After a stern look from the Headmistress, the students calmed down and Cissy turned again to Hermione, perplexed as to her state of mind. Softly touching Hermione's arm, Cissy asked, "Are you okay," as the young witch turned to her. "You look, well, off. Something happened…yes?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes," she breathed, "something happened and I'm having a hard time…well…processing."

"Would you like to talk about it," Cissy said gently, her blue eyes focused on Hermione. While they had certainly become close since she started here at Hogwarts, developing a friendship she never expected and had grown to treasure, she hoped that Hermione felt the same way and would open up to her about whatever was going on.

"Yes, I'd love to talk, thank you Narcissa. Can we go to my quarters?" she asked. Thankfully it was Saturday and both had time to devote to whatever was on the brown-haired witches mind.

**XOXOXOXOXO**

"So, out with it dear," stated Cissy, "what is it that has you in this state?"

Hermione started out hesitantly. How to begin, where to begin. She felt lost, happy, confused…"So yesterday, after we separated, well, you know…" she stumbled. "Cissy, I don't even know where to begin."

"Hermione, get to the point my dear. What is going on!?"

"It's Fleur! She kissed me," she stated, exhaling. With a small smirk, Narcissa replied, "Okay. Fleur kissed you. And…" she trailed off, noticing the look on Hermione's face, not wanting to push.

"Oh, Narcissa...it was amazing!" The Gryffindor gushed. "She has the softest lips I've ever felt, ever! It felt so right, her pushed up against me. We kissed. Loads! Oh did we kiss. Oh, and touching...mmm, We touched. I felt so caught up in this connection...our connection. But then, she left," Hermione stated quickly, turning red and shoving her face in her hands.

While Cissy was certainly becoming a good friend, she inexplicably felt she needed to temper that news, somewhat. "She's a woman Cissy. And she is Fleur, the most stunning, shockingly perfect, drop-dead gorgeous, kind, smart, talented, tough, WOMAN! Why did she kiss me? Why me? I'm just plain ole' Hermione. What if it was a mistake? What if she regrets it when she realizes that I'm nothing in comparison to the absolute perfection that is Fleur Delacour?" she rambled on.

"And did I mention she is a woman? I've never kissed a woman before! I've never thought of women like that!" Narcissa listed to Hermione decompose on the spot. "But, Cissy, it's ...Fleur. Bollocks, it's Fleur Delacour….I've only kissed a few people, as you well know Cissy, and nothing can ever or will ever compare to the lightening I felt when her lips touched mine. People have told me what it feels like to feel passion, to want to kiss someone and never stop, but me, I've never felt anything like that before. I've never seen stars before, or Unicorns when I've kissed someone."

"Slow down, Hermione, dear. What's the one thing you felt, with Fleur?"

"Today, Cissy? Unicorns!"

The healer looked understandably confused. "Unicorns?" She confirmed.

Hermione was laughing, with sheer happiness coursing through her every cell. "I know I sound barmy, Cissy...but yes. Unicorns! Frankly, I think I've never felt anything at a all, until yesterday... when her lips touched mine." Her eyes went glassy, momentarily. Just a quickly, the Golden Girl squeaked out a mercurial, "But why her? Why Fleur?!"

Hermione stopped, her eyes widening in panic, looking at Cissy. Cissy said nothing, merely returning her gaze, a thin smile of amusement, evident.

Hermione flushed. "Oh no, Cissy! Ugh! I'm so sorry... Gormless me, I should have never confessed this to you! Are you repulsed by this? I didn't even stop to consider...I." She looked at Cissy, her speech feeling even more pressured. "You can't even look at me, can you, Cissy?"

Hermione was becoming upset. "Narcissa, say something...anything, please! Is it because of Fleur? For kissing her? For..." Hermione almost couldn't finish. "For wanting Fleur…?"

Hermione hung her head, refusing to look up, afraid she was losing her friend.

Her fear was unfounded. For the second time in two days, a beautiful blonde gently placed their finger under Hermione's chin slowly lifting her face to theirs. And for the second time in two days, she found miraculous blue eyes staring back at her, filled with obvious caring.

"Hermione," she uttered, beginning delicately. "While we were never close before, and my actions towards you at times...shameful...I can only sit back, today, amazed by your forgiveness, and be amazed by your audacity of living, you amazing woman! You, Hermione Granger, have shared your tremendous gifts with me, selflessly, as we have grown to truly know each other since my tenuous start, at Hogwarts."

Narcissa watched Hermione carefully, to ensure she was listening.

"This has been hard for me, Hermione, facing my ghosts. I face them, every day, with you, and yet..." Narcissa shook her head. "I knew you were the brains of the trio, as they say, but what I didn't have the privilege of knowing before, until recently, are your other, equally tremendous qualities. Specifically, Hermione, how passionate you are about the things you love, and believe in, for example."

Hermione was blushing and attempting to change the subject, but Narcissa would not have it. She forced Hermione to listen, adding, "Your soul. What a gentle soul you possess, whose depths shock me at times! Finally, I'm flummoxed when I think you are the same age as my son, and your nearly daily displays of wisdom, infectious passion, and your generosity amaze me."

Narcissa had done the impossible. She had rendered Hermione Granger speechless. "I...uh..." She mumbled, completely at a loss.

The regal woman angled her jaw, peering down at Hermione. "A woman such as yourself, in possession of a soul such as this? Such nobel qualities? No, Hermione Jean Granger. Just, no. I will refuse to let you, or anyone else, denigrate you, while in front of me, ever again. Ever!" She looked at Hermione emphatically. "Do you understand me?" Hermione slowly nodded her head, having felt centuries of the House of Black channeled through Cissy, in a practically royal proclamation.

"Thank you, Cissy." Hermione said, simply.

"Right, then. So, Hermione, if it's Fleur Delacour you want, then I will do everything in my power to help you along the way, ensuring it is Fleur Delacour you get." She cupped Hermione's chin, as she lowered her voice, speaking in a softer tone. "Hermione, the passion of which you speak, contained in your voice, when you say her name? The smile that makes it all the way to your eyes, my dear? Well...its obvious something profound has happened to you, and I'm so thankful you are sharing it with me, my dear!

"While I can't say I've ever kissed a woman, despite Gabrielle's best efforts to the contrary, I'm certainly not opposed to your situation. In fact, my sister briefly dated a woman while she was at Hogwarts, and it was the happiest I've ever seen her, which was rare, indeed. Find your passion, Hermione, and go get it!" Narcissa paused, collecting her thoughts. Reflectively, she added, "All I've ever wanted was to feel a fraction of the passion you possess, when you speak of Fleur; how selfish would it be of me, to deny you that? That which I crave most?" Narcissa smiled. "For that, I can only feel pure joy for you, my dear."

With that, Cissy, finished. Hermione let her tortured breath, and flung herself into the older woman's arms. "Thank you Cissy, thank you! " she cried, as she smiled broadly from ear to ear.

Stroking the younger woman's hair, she said softly, "Hermione, tell me, how did it end when she left you?"

Hermione then proceed to detail Fleur's pulling away, and then asking her out on a date.

"So dramatic you are my dear! She asked you out, this is wonderful! And I dare say, rather sweet, might I add. So, Hermione dear... when is this date?"

Cissy chuckled, thinking the worst with the way Hermione was acting and happily relieved for her young friend now understanding what truly was going on.

"Well…ummm…it's tonight," Hermione acknowledged, sheepishly.

Narcissa's eyes grew panicked. "What? Hermione! It's tonight!" "Well, then...let get a move on! We must get you ready!" As they headed to Hermione's quarters, the older witch peppered her with questions such as, What did she say you were doing? Did she mention a dress code? What are the deals regarding times, location, and outerwear? Will this be indoors, or outdoors? " Cissy's inquisition rapid-fire.

Hermione laughed, pausing the task-oriented witch. "well, I'm not sure where we are going or what we are doing. She said she will come to my room at 7 and that was it."

Taking a moment to collect herself, Cissy smiled, but urging Hermione, "Well, then! We must go get started, then, shan't we?"

**XOXOXOXOXOXO**

"Gaby, oh Gaby! Flûte! Somezing 'as 'appened, chère soeur!" Fleur's eyes were wild, as she darted from room to room, seeking her out. Gaby had never seen her poised older sister like this before. Fleur continued gushing. "Oh, Gabs... I kissed someone, Gaby! I kissed her, and suddenly, I zink everyzing iz different zan eet waz before!"

"Better or worse?" Gaby asked, for clarification.

Fleur snorted. "Ne pas être un idiot, Chou! Better! Of course, better!" Fleur seemed to be floating, unable to settle in any one place, for too long. Her restlessness was off the charts, and was unnerving even Gabrielle.

"Okay, Fleur...uh, do you zink sere is any possibility you are 'aging a -how ze call eet- a neverous breakdown?"

"No! Well, maybe...." Fleur joked.

Gaby stepped directly into Fleur's visual path. "Last question, but be 'onset! Sister. Tell me ze trutz: 'ave you been taking drugs?"

Fleur smiled a megawatt smile. "Non, I 'ave not been taking drugs, but yes, I am most definitely eleive, uh, zey say?...high? ...yes, zat. High!""

"Je suis...uh, zut." Gaby declared, a little rattled. Had she not seen Fleur sneaking out of Hermione's chambers, she would have been a lot more concerned. "So, I guess ze only zing left to declare, iz ...Une. You kissed a girl, and you liked it? Deux. Did she taste like cherry chapstick?" Gaby belted out the rest, to an very unappreciative crowd of one. The little witch felt mildly annoyed, realizing her sister had been ignoring her completely. Her bad song references, were hilarious! That, and her sister never seemed to understand them. 

A stone faced Fleur regarded her, curiously. "Gaby, what ze 'eck are you speaking of? You making zhoes silly jokes of yours when I zink my life 'as taken a turn and I don't know what to do," Fleur exclaimed.

"Oh Fleur," Gaby's face fell. "I'm sorry, no more of ze American jokes, I promize. Well...for now. What 'as 'appened to get you worked up into such a state?" Gaby asked.

"Last night after you 'ad to leave to deal wiz sat student," said Fleur with a dreamy look on her face, "well, 'ermione invited me into her quarters for some tea. But I did not _want_ zee tea," she explained, while Gaby smirked. "I _kissed her_ Gaby, I kissed her senseless!"

Taking a minute to think through what Fleur just explained, Fleur started speaking again, only this time rapidly in French, "Je pense que je dois parler à maman. Quelque chose est différent . Je ne sais pas comment expalin mais quelque chose est arrivé et je me sens ... bien ... Je me sens comme , ahhhh , je dois Maman. (I think I need to talk to Maman. Something is different. I don't know how to explain it but something happened and I feel...well...I feel like, ahhhh, I need Maman.)

"Merde! Oui... we can floo to Maman , but I still don't understand why you are so upset souer."

Gaby walked over to her floo, thankful to have been endowed with private quarters here at Hogwarts with a working-albeit with strict limits - floo. Gaby was doubly grateful, considering a floo network connection to France is not usual, and the Ministry of Magic likes to micromanage all International floo capabilities. Foruntely, Headmistress McGonagall had considerable pull in the ministry, and had this connection established so Gaby could communicate her mother when she needed. While she was not able to use the floo to go back and forth between France and England due to restrictions, she was able to use to to speak with her Maman as often as desired. Walking over to the fireplace, she took some powder, tossing it in and peaking her head through to the other side called out, "Maman! Bonjour maman. Es tu là? Il est Fleur et Gaby, nous aimerions vous parler." (Hello Maman. Are you there? It's Fleur and Gaby, we would like to talk to you.)

Ever since their father's passing several years prior, both Fleur and Gaby checked in on their Maman as often as possible. Leaving France was difficult for them both, but luckily for them, their Maman was happy to travel to England to see her girls often, and this international Floo connection made check-ins easier than anticipated.

Madame Delacour appeared, looking beautiful as ever, tall, thin with golden hair like her girls, wearing elegant light blue robes. Gaby could still see the sadness in her eyes that has lingered since her father's passing, but she did seem to be taking the loss well. Gaby, however, knew her Maman was still young and she desperately hoped she would find some happiness once again.

"Bonjour Maman! I need you to peak through so you can talk to both Fleur and I, will that be alright?" With that, Gaby pulled her head away and waited for her mother's head to come through the flames. "My darling girls! Vat a vunderful sight to zee you two togezer," she exclaimed. However, upon seeing Fleur's distress, she quickly changed her tune, and focusing on her eldest daughter, she cut right to the chase. "What iz it ma chere fille?"

"Do you remember, from ze tournament, Maman, my friend... Monsieur 'arry Potter?" Fleur asked.

"Oui, bien sur...go on."

Fleur felt her face begin to heat up, as she spoke. She couldn't help the tiny grin attempt to escape. "Eh bien... 'arry's best friend is a girl...named, uh, 'ermione Granger," Fleur said, now unmistakably grinning. "Um.. do you remember la Fille intéressante?"

"Oui, ma fille, I do remember 'er! Who can forget any of _Le trio d'or,_ oui? I remember zinking she was very intelligent? Hmmm. She had rather bushy brown 'air, non?"

"Yes, Maman," Fleur chuckled and continued, "she is ... zee one." The double entrendre was not lost on Fleur.

With fluttering resolve, Fleur buried her nerves, and proceeded to tell her mother what had happened over the past few days. She described the kisses she shared with Hermione, and the strange lights she had seen during their more intimate moments. Not wanting to go into too many of those details as her mother was a proper lady, Fleur continued trying to convey her emotions and feelings as her Maman peppered her with questions. Apolline stopped talking for a moment and then said decidedly, "I need to talk to zee Veela elders Fleur. I have a feeling I know what itz going on, but I need zome time. Can ma belles wait for me to return?"

"Yes Maman," the blondes said together, watching her disappear from the floo.

Gaby turned to Fleur with a bright smile on her face. "So, a date, oui?" She was practically bouncing, in place, with excitement.

"Oui ma petie sour," Fleur grinned. "And I have no idea whzt it iz I should do." She sighed, melodramatically.

Putting their heads together conspiratorially, the sisters began to plot and plan what it was that Fleur could do to continue to woo "her 'ermione" that evening. While Gabriele was initially shocked to hear of this newfound romance, to see her sister so happy was all that Gaby needed to know. And frankly, to fall for someone as lovely as Hermione could not be a bad thing. Plus, if these two fell in love, maybe that meant that Gaby would be able to see her big sister more often, she laughed to herself. Bonus!

The pair continued to plan, waiting for their Maman to return. "Gaby, why do you thizk Maman needed to talk to zee Elders," Fleur asked, looking more like the little sister in that moment than ever before. She really liked Hermione, it was evident on her face.

"I'm not sure mon doux, but I do zink itz good, I truly do." At that moment, green flames roared to life and Apolline Delacour appeared once more.

"Fluer, mon coeur. Please tell me once more about what you saw when you and Miss Granger, were, well razher intimate last night." Fleur explained the flashes of light she saw in her eyes, and how she felt consumed in a way she had never experienced before. Nothing she ever felt during her marriage to William could even compare in any way, which is why she was so fraught with her feelings.

"Mon couer. As I suspected, and was confirmed, we zink that, well, it soundz like Miss Granger may be _your mate_ , my Fleur. Your Mate."

The blondes both gasped, bight blue eyes widening as Fleur's hands flew to her mouth.

"My mate, Maman? Truly?"

"Well yes, mon couer. Ze way you described your feelings, the 'aze, ze lights flashing in your eyes, it soundz like zee bonding process started last night, Fleur! And now, you need to determine just 'ow your mate feels about you, _before proceeding._ "

" **My mate** ," Fleur said, in reverence. Enjoying the word settling on her consciousness , she tried again. "Eet'z my mate, Madimoselle 'ermione Granger. My...mate."

TBD


	3. The Date

**Chapter 3: THE DATE**

The date that Fleur had been preparing for had become suddenly laden with meaning, after her conversation with her Maman earlier in the day.

She had suspected, possibly unconsciously, that her mother's statement had some veracity to it, as soon as she had kissed Hermione for the first time. _But Merlin, Sweet Merlin_ , Fleur thought in disbelief, _could this actually be true? Could Hermione Jean Granger be my mate? My one true love?_ Hermione, the young girl whom she had known for years, but really only as a child, previously...grown into this woman, could now be her mate.

The thought honestly scared the life out of her.

At the same time, the prospect of being so lucky to have her one true love...it was something she never thought possible. It had not happened so many in her life, except her Grandmere. Maybe now it was for her, too?

She thought back on the times she had spent with Hermione prior to their current "reintroduction". The bushy haired Gryffindor was young, so very young! She was just a little witch the first time she had laid eyes on her, in the Great Hall, asking her to pass the bouillabaisse. The girl grew into her first vestiges of womanhood, when she had attended her wedding to William, true. Their most recent encounter, a troubling dark spot, when Fleur had to channel her inner Veela, in order to heal her at the Shell Cottage, was deep...but she didn't make the connection, understandably. Her focus during the war had been elsewhere.

After all, her marriage was just beginning, and little did she know how quickly it would come to an end. Since her divorce, her life had been a roller coaster. The prospect of finding her mate was something that had never crossed her mind, nor was it a priority. Staying alive moved to the forefront. No, the prospect of love was something Fleur buried, compartmentalized far away from the surface, and she abstractly hoped to just find love again with someone, someday.

Maybe this was her opportunity. Maybe a rare window opened, allowing the opportunity for the Veela's heart to sing. Sing... with a beautiful, smart, funny, adorable woman, who stole her breath away. Her breath, and her mind, and increasingly, her heart.

**XOXOXOXOXO**

It was almost seven o'clock in the evening, and Narcissa and Hermione had spent the afternoon preparing her for the "date". Her date. Her date, with that gorgeous woman known as Fleur Delacour, thief of hearts.

Narcissa gave Hermione a quick kiss on the cheek, turning to depart, when Hermione felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude come over her. The brunette missed her mother. Something about this evening, this preparation, made that all the more palpable. Hermione's relationship with her mother had changed drastically when Hermione entered Hogwarts, a world that was wholly unknown to Dr. Granger. Although it happened gradually, they found less and less in common, and her mother made little effort to understand Hermione's strange world. While Hermione understood this, intellectually, emotionally she missed that unconditional love and understanding a mother can provide.

So, she did without, and she toughened up.

However, since Healer Narcissa Black had entered her and Gaby's life so dramatically, the Gryffindor felt, for the first time in years, that she had someone to turn to. Narcissa filled a void in her heart-someone older and wiser, and someone who cared, unconditionally.

"Cissy, thank you...for everything." Hermione said, nervously. Her expressive brown eyes looked up at the older blonde witch, who looked at her, inquisitively. Hermione added, "for being here for me."

A moment of quiet passed between the two, before Hermione's lip quivered, slightly, and she said the words that had been bubbling up in her heart, fondly, for the older woman. "Cissy...I love you," she said shyly, hoping she had not overstepped her bounds.

With a smile that could light up the room, Narcissa grabbed Hermione, "I love you too, Hermione." She squeezed her tightly, whispering in her ear, "Who would have thought...?" she paused, stopping mid sentence. Deciding old ghosts had no place in the room where only happy memories should be built, she opted to not finish her sentence, instead, by offering "have a wonderful time with Fleur, my dear, and I expect to hear every single detail as soon as you leave her side!"

Narcissa rose, with the grace that was her birthright, offering a wink to her dear friend, and she then she was gone.

**XOXOXOXOX**

Hermione began pacing around her room, waiting for Fleur, and wondering just what the night could have in store for her. The firm knock on the door jarred her into reality. Hermione steeled her nerves, and opened the door, hesitantly. As the door swung open, sheer radiance overtook the vision of the brunette.

Fleur was wearing another pair of deliciously tight dark black jeans, with a soft blue jumper that enhanced her eyes even more. And luckily for Hermione, that jumper had a rather deep V-neck that allowed Hermione a hint of a view of what she had been dreaming about intermittently throughout the day.

"Fleur," she whispered, her appreciative eyes wide. "Wow, you look…so...so beautiful."

"And you, my belle..." Fleur grinned, staring back at the appreciative woman. Fleur was devouring the sight, she noticed it all. The hungry eyes devoured it, voraciously: she took in Hermione's hair gently flowing down her back, cascading over her shoulders; her tight black shirt that hugged her in all the right places; and the outfit accentuated her small frame and fittingly small chest. Fleur's hungry eyes continue to rake down Hermione's body taking in her tight jeans with her pretty little pink flats, with the Veela's eyes quickly traveled back to those delicious pink lips, to match.

In an uncharacteristically low voice, Fleur noted, "You are just delicious, ma belle." Fleur leaned in, Hermione's breathe hitched, her eyes closed and pillow soft lips touched her gently. Just as quickly, they were gone. "Are you ready to go?" Fleur asked as she pulled away.

She grabbed Hermione's hand, and they warded off Hermione's chambers as they left. With a mysterious smile, Fleur slowly guided Hermione deeper into the Castle.

Where could they be going?, Hermione wondered.

They were headed away from Gaby's quarters, deeper into the Castle. They kept walking, making Hermione slightly more confused as the journey progressed. Finally, they turned, and entered a familiar hallway.

Hermione immediately recognized they were headed to the Room of Requirement! "How did you know about this, Fleur?" she asked, surprised.

"I 'ad a little 'elp from zome friends, ma belle. You zee, I did not want to take you somewhere too public yet, as I wanted zis evening to be just about us and no one else." Fleur grinned. "I needed a place zat was private and special, and zis waz, well... alors. I 'ope you zink it will be perfect."

Entering the room, Fleur held the door open for Hermione. The younger woman gasped. Walking in slowly, taking it all in, she turned to Fleur, flabbergasted. Eyes wide, she declared, "It's...perfect."

The room was bathed in candlelight. Candles floated around the outer walls and a roaring fireplace filled one wall, with more candles floating along the mantle. In front of the fireplace was an oversized leather sofa, with several cushions thrown about, practically inviting them to sit. The floor was covered in a soft throw, with more cushions scattered about.

Behind this cozy area of the room stood a beautiful, square dark chestnut table, covered in a deep purple and blue placemats, dishes and napkins. More candles adorned the center of the table and feast for two sat waiting for the women. On the back wall were rows and rows of books, just looking to be worshiped. And on the far side of the room from where they entered was a single window, overlooking the lake and lawn, Hermione could see the moon just beginning to peek through, lending the softest moonglow to the room.

"Oh Fleur...I," Hermione was speechless. "Wow. This is a dream," she smiled as they walked in, hand in hand.

Before she realized what was happening, Fleur had spun Hermione around and straight into her waiting arms. She looked down at her, gently. "I just...I wanted zis to be special ma belle, for you...for us," Fleur signed, and then leaned into Hermione placing a gentle kiss on her lips.

But a gentle kiss was not enough, as Hermione pushed it further, probing with her tongue, and begging entrance into Fleur's mouth. She wanted, desperately, to show this beautiful witch just how appreciated, and adored, she felt at this moment.

The kiss deepened, as Fleur's hands caressed Hermione's cheeks, and Hermione's reciprocating with her hands to Fleur's hips, searching for the skin she craved to touch. With a soft touch, a zing! ran between the two witches, and Fleur broke free, gasping at the emotions coursing through her body.

"Ma belle, oh ma belle. You are delicious." Leaning her forehead against the brunette, she cleared her throat and with great effort, pointed to the table, "Ma belle, letz please…eat. I chose zome foods from France zat I wanted to share wiz you, 'oping to share a little of my 'ome with you tonight. May we sit?"

Hermione nodded with a smile. Fleur led her to the table, pulling a chair out for the younger witch. Fleur sat next to her, allowing them both to gaze at each other, basking in the light of the roaring fireplace across the room. With a swish of Fleur's wand, soft music began playing.

"Zo, I 'ave taken some liberties wiz zee meal, 'oping you might be willing to take a risk wiz me tonight?" Fleur asked, with a devilish grin.

"Oh yes...that's delightful! Merlin, this looks wonderful, I'm so excited to dig in." Catching her attention, Hermione uttered a curious, "What's that?" As she pointed at a dish to her right with a bright smile, sounding a bit like a kid in a candy store.

Fleur and Hermione spent the next hour eating, laughing, and delighting in the foods... and each other. The Baked Camembert was a favorite, not only for the seductive flavor, but for the way Fleur dipped the crusty bread into the cheese and proceeded to feed it to Hermione with her slender fingers. She also learned she loved the Confit de Canard, although she was surprised when she learned it was, indeed duck. Not shockingly, Hermione laughed out loud when she pointed to one particular dish, confirming with a giggle, it was indeed Bouillabaisse! They took a moment to remember the first time they met, over the Bouillabaisse, and wondered what would have happened if they had kissed oh so many years ago.

Hermione learned, as well, there were a few French dishes she did not like. This was a smaller list, that included the Piperade, which was like a ratatouille, due to the fact she hated peppers with the fire of a thousand suns. And much to Fleur's dismay, she found out she was also not a fan of Coq au Vin.

"'ermione! Itz one of zee _most famous_ French dishes," she exclaimed. Hermione looked apologetic. Then with a wicked grin, Fleur continued on, explaining that she was _not a fan_ of the dish either.

**XOXOXOXXXO**

Following dinner, Fleur asked if Hermione would like to join her on the couch, pulling the chair out for the brunette.

_I never would have thought this blonde beauty would be such a chivalrous date_ , Hermione thought to herself, blushing.

As they made their way to the couch, Fleur grabbed hold of Hermione's arm, and began twirling her about the room. Pulling the younger woman against her, their bodies tightly pressed together, Fleur began to sway as the soft sounds of Kelly Clarkson magically filled the room...

_You know my soul_  
You know everything about me there's to know  
You know my heart  
How to make me stop & how to make me go  
You should know I love everything  
About you don't you know 

A dreamy smile crept onto Hermione's face as she listened to the words of the song, held tightly by this truly delectable woman. "Who is this?" she asked.

"Well, itz Kelly Clarkson, ma belle. She's a muggle singer, and I learned of her when I waz on a mission in the United States not long ago. I fell in love wiz zis song. I found myself 'umming it today and realized eet would be perfect to play wiz you in my arms," she said, a bit sheepishly.

_How could anyone resist this woman?_ Hermione wondered as they continued to sway together. The Golden Girl tucked her head into Fleur's neck, enjoying the essence of the witch, the movement of the witch and the feel of the witch...all pressed against her body. With her hands resting on the small of Fleur's back, she pushed a little lower, caressing the expanse of skin between Fleur's jumper and those ridiculously perfect tight black jeans. Inching her hands down even further, she felt Fleur shiver at the touch.

_You know my thoughts_  
Before I open up my mouth & try to speak  
You know my dreams  
Must be listening when I'm talking in my sleep  
I hope you know  
I love having you around me don't you know 

The witches continued to sway together and as the song ended Fleur looked down at Hermione with lidded eyes and pressed her lips against those of the enchanting brunette. The softness, the fullness of those lips would be the death of her, she determined.

The witches made their way to the couch, settling in together. "Would you like some dessert, ma belle?" Fleur offered. A nearly imperceptible nod of Hermione's head was all Fleur needed, and with a swish of her wand again, a small table appeared in front of the couch. On the table was an opulent tray of fresh fruits, with both chocolate and caramel fondue ready to be enjoyed.

_She's thought of everything, it seems!_ Hermione realized, with another smile.

With a devastatingly seductive grin, Fleur grabbed a raspberry, "Ma belle, chocolate or caramel?"

"Um…caramel, I think," Hermione answered, stumbling on her words.

As Fleur dipped in the ripe berry, she slowly brought it to Hermione's mouth. Hermione feared, again, she might promptly fall over and die from the pure desire she felt coursing through her body for this stunning, kind, funny and overwhelming woman before her. The shell-shocked Gryffindor slowly opened her mouth, allowing Fleur to place the berry lasciviously inside; as she did, a strand of caramel dripped down her chin. Fleur leaned in, and slowly licked it off Hermione. The little squeak that came out of Hermione's mouth was the most adorable sound Fleur had ever heard, and her heart was overcome with love for the brunette.

At this realization, Fleur leaned back, suddenly frightened by the overwhelming feelings she was having for her mate. What if she was not feeling the same? Maman had warned her, she had to determine how Hermione felt, and soon because she realized she was falling in love with this woman, and if she was really honest with herself, she acknowledged, she was already in love with her.

Fast, yes, but when ordained by a power much higher than she, so be it... this love was out of her mortal control. But what if Hermione did not reciprocate these feelings? The fear all Veela feel, bubbled to the surface. She would die; literally die, without her. Standing up abruptly, Fleur walked over to the fireplace.

Sensing her troubles, Hermione frowned. "Are you alright, Fleur?" Hermione asked.

Fleur seemed dazed. She then slowly turned to Hermione, nodding. "'ermione, 'ave you ever dated…a…a woman, before?"

"Well, **no**. I have not, Fleur. Why do you ask?"

"How do you feel about that, ma belle? I mean, if I may presume, dating a…a woman." Fleur's eyes flailed about. "I mean... ideally, me. Uh, dating, me...you know, _me_ , who iz a _woman_ ," she said hesitantly, stumbling over her words. Taking a moment to think clearly about how she wanted to respond, Fleur nervously played with her fingernails, a feeling of dread overcoming her body.

Hermione spoke in even tones. "Well, Fleur, to be honest with you, I'd never thought about dating a woman before. It was just not something in my lexicon, to be honest. And it's not that I don't have friends who are ladies, who date other ladies…I mean…lesbians…because I do. But I'd just never been put in the position to think about that before."

Stealing herself for a moment, she smiled at Fleur. It was clear the woman was in distress, waiting to hear more. Hermione continued her reasoning. "But Fleur, you, I don't see you as a woman…and me being a woman. I mean," Hermione looked at her, frowning. " I know you are a woman," she chuckled, "But I don't see us as... women," she fumbled, "Ack! Why is this so needlessly hard?" She shook her head, giggled, and took a breath. "Fleur, I don't care that you are a woman. I care that you are you. I don't know if I'm heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual or just Fleursexual, but at this point, I'm confident to tell you, you beautiful woman, that I am most certainly…Fleursexual."

Fleur felt like she could suddenly breathe. The flashes of light in the periphery of her vision appeared again, and she felt a warm glow overcome her body. Ignoring the odd sensory issues, Fleur said, "Really, ma belle, truly?" she asked, suddenly feeling she needed to be sure.

In response, Hermione rose to her feet, padding over to Fleur. She grabbed her face, answering her questions in the best way she could, by kissing the blonde enigma. She pressed her lips to Fleur's, grabbed her hips and pulled her flush against her. Her tongue demanded entrance into Fleur's mouth, seeking the blondes. Fleur whimpered. Hermione gripped her tighter. They kissed each other for what seemed liked hours and broke away when air suddenly became necessity.

"Truly, Fleur, truly."

"Fleursexual?" Fleur smiled. "I love zis! Zis iz ze best, ma belle! You are quite a cheeky witch, c'est vrai?" Grabbing Hermione's hand, Fleur skipped back over to the couch and pulled the younger witch into her arms.

Hermione settled onto Fleur's lap, her hand caressing Fleur's arm.

"So…will you be my girl, zen, 'ermione?" Fleur asked, under shy eyes. "Because ma belle, I cannot imagine anyone elze kizzing you zee way I kiss you, touching you zee way I touch you, and holding you zee way I am right now. I just cannot. And I know itz fast, and we 'ave only reconnected in zee last few days, but ma belle, when you know, you know. You know?" She rambled on.

"Fleur, oh Fleur," Hermione giggled, "Yes, when you know, you know." She offered, sagely. "And I know. The feelings I have for you, well... they are quite strong. Unexpected and undeniable. And while it's only our first 'official' date, the thought of touching someone else makes me sick. And the thought of someone else touching you." Hermione's face broke off into a scowl. "Well. NO. I don't see how we can be anything but together." Hermione stated to Fleur. "But, beautiful one, how will this work? You are never in one place. I don't even know where you live these days, Fleur!"

"I don't 'ave an answer for you right now, ma belle, but I will figure somezing out. Soon. Je promets." Feeling better about the situation than she had hoped, Fleur settled into the couch with Hermione wrapped around her.

Kisses turned into more kisses, touches turned into more frenzied touches, and jumpers suddenly found themselves on the floor. Breaking away for moment, Hermione looked over to the chocolate fondue that was still warm next to them. She tentatively dipped a finger in, and slowly brought her fingertip back to Fleur, whose eyes were widening. With the precision of a surgeon, Hermione covered Fleur's lips in chocolate and proceeded to kiss and lick every last drop from her mouth. It was impossible to make Fleur any more delicious than she already was, but Merlin, mixing chocolate with Fleur left her without words!

As the evening went on, the witches continued with gentle touches intermixed with intense kissing and intense conversation. They wanted to know everything about one another: what's your favorite color? (purple for Fleur, green for Hermione), what's your favorite ice cream flavor? (vanilla for both), and what's your favorite Quidditch team? (none, the witches decided after mutual discussion, and chuckled).

They talked about their jobs, Hermione curious to know more about just how dangerous the situations Fleur found herself in were, and how often she truly was not in London. Hermione told Fleur the story of her past five years, how she took some time to figure out what she wanted to do, what she needed to make herself happy, and what a luxury that was. She talked about the excitement and pride she felt when Minerva asked her to become the Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts and how lucky she felt to find Gaby when she arrived. She told her how she came to trust Narcissa, about her friendship remaining in tack with Ginny and how her and Harry miraculously survived the war and remained together, to her honest surprise. If anyone were to be a lesbian, she was sure it would have been Ginny, she giggled.

They talked about their families, and Hermione with a heavy heart, explained her distant relationship with her parents, and how hard it was to straddle the line between the Muggle world and the wizard world. Fleur talked about her Maman, explaining how proper she was but how funny she could be at times as well. She talked about maybe wanting to go back to France one day, and settle down, curiously watching Hermione's expression.

They talked for hours, they laughed for hours with Hermione telling Fleur about how genuinely funny Gaby was, and how she made her laugh so hard she would often find herself in tears. Fleur told Hermione stories of Tonks, and how when they first started working together, Fleur made a list of all the hair colors and styles that Tonks would morph into and tried to put a corresponding emotion to each. Sadly this proved rather futile, but was funny nonetheless.

As the night went on, their eyes became heavy, the fire was a warm and soft blankets covered their bodies. Wrapped up in each other, the witches fell fast asleep.

**XOXOXOXOXOXO**

The next morning Hermione awoke to the feeling of soft lashes and butterfly kisses covering her face. "Fleur," she moaned groggily.

"Ma belle, who else would it be?" Fleur swatted Hermione's behind, playfully.

"Hi Fleur... I guess, well, we must have fallen asleep together last night?" she asked, sleepy.

"I would zink so, and 'ow did you sleep, mon chou?" Fleur questioned.

Some day soon Hermione was going to need to get a French dictionary, she realized, because she wanted to know all these little terms of what she hoped were endearment coming out of Fleur's mouth. Until that time, she'd keep guessing.

"Well, it's the best I've slept in a very long time Fleur. At least for as long as I can remember." With that she nuzzled back into Fleur's neck. "Do we have to get up love, or can we stay here for just a bit longer?"

When that little term of endearment slipped out of Hermione's mouth, a huge smile broke out across the blonde's face. She called me love, Fleur swooned. Reaching down under their blanket, Fleur began gently caressing the exposed skin of Hermione's back, alternating between gentle caresses and light tickles.

"Mmmmmm, that's so nice, Fleur," Hermione groaned sleepily. "Don't stop."

Well, one must comply with her witch's wishes, Fleur thought. With that, she shifted them a bit, such that Hermione was fully laying on top of Fleur, on the sofa. It allowed her more access to that scrumptious body. Using both hands, she caressed Hermione's back, her sides, her hair; all with soft touches. As she did, Hermione kept making the most delicious little noises, spurring Fleur on.

Feeling brave, Fleur decided it was high time to remove the offending bra strap that kept getting in the way of her ministrations. She brought her hands to the clasp, in stealthy moves, and unhooked the offending garment. Pulling the straps off Hermione's shoulders, Hermione looked up and gave Fleur a smile and a gentle kiss. She lifted herself up just enough, and Fleur pulled the pink lace away from her body. Hermione settled back down on top of Fleur as Fleur tried desperately to control her breathing.

"'ermione, you feel, you feel just so…." Fleur whispered.

"You too, my love, please don't stop," Hermione asked quietly.

As Hermione laid on top of Fleur, pressed and exposed to this beautiful woman, she took a moment to relish in the feeling. Fleur's hand felt like magic all over her body. She marveled at how well they fit together, like two puzzle pieces coming together to be one. As she wiggled her hips a little, Fleur opened her legs and Hermione settled down further between them. She began to place gentle kisses to Fleur's chest, realizing that it was becoming her favorite part of the blonde woman. She caressed Fleur's shoulders and hair and felt overcome with that same emotion she was starting to recognize easily as desire. Desire for Fleur.

"Fleur," she said softly, twisting her head up to look into those endless blue eyes.

"Yes, ma belle?" Fleur nodding, continuing on with her caress of Hermione's back.

In the smallest of voices, she offered the question back to her Veela. "Have _you_ ever dated a woman before?" she asked quietly.

With a chuckle, Fleur began, "Well 'ermione, I myself have also never been in a seriouz relationship wiz a woman before, but I've dated a few over the years. In France, and at Beauxbatons, itz not unheard of for two woman to be togezer, so itz something I'm quite comfortable wiz." Hermione winced, slightly, at this admission. Fleur continued. "In school, it waz not unusual for us to, well, kizz one another, touch one another. So I've 'ad…experiences with ozzer women before. But never serious," she reassured Hermione. "My most serious relationship was, of course, wiz William."

"Oh." Hermione said, unsure. "Okay." Hermione felt a bit overcome with envy knowing other people had touched Fleur before. But that was silly, she knew logically.

"'ermione," Fleur said softly, using that slender pale finger to maneuver her chin back towards Fleur's face, "I can say with certainty thoz, I've never felt before zee emotions I feel for you ma belle...Not even wiz William."

"Really?" Hermione asked hopefully.

"Truly, ma belle." She said and leaned in for another kiss. But a soft kiss could not be enough. They both felt so overwhelmed with this incredibly fast connection, but how could it be anything other than wonderful. Fleur was overcome by Hermione's body and her mouth had other ideas. Her tongue demanded entrance into Hermione's as her hands began to grip Hermione a little tighter. The passion quickly fueled her body. She needed more of this woman! Her mate, she thought to herself. They had made so much progress last night and this morning. She knew Hermione was developing strong feelings for her, but she was still not ready to explain to Hermione that she was her mate. It was too soon and she did not want to scare the younger woman off, even though she wanted to scream it from the rooftops.

She had found her mate, her person, in a most unexpected place, and she was delirious with happiness that the possibility of Hermione loving her back was not far off. She needed to feel this woman, she needed to taste her, to touch her.

Everywhere.

She felt Hermione's bare skin and breasts pressed against her. She wanted to touch them, she wanted to see them and pepper them with kisses! She had to know what this woman looked like when she kissed her in such intimate places. So she began to gently shift them so she could top her witch.

Settling them both down, she lifted up and when she did, she saw the Gryffindor beaming back up at her.

_Is this a dream?_ She wondered, to herself.

"Oh Mon Dieu, you are magnifique..." Fleur whispered. She could not control herself anymore. She began to slowly kiss her way down Hermione's throat, until she reached her clavicle, placing wet open-mouthed kisses across her. She slowly brought one hand up to Hermione's breast and began gently caressing and squeezing while her mouth continued to kiss its way down to the other.

As her lips latched on to Hermione's perfectly light pink nipple, she heard the younger woman gasp, "Oh! Fleur..." as her body gently shook.

_What a tasty reaction!_ Fleur thought, and continued to love on Hermione, until she felt a tug at her back.

It was a wonder, Hermione thought to herself, that she could even process a bit of rationale thought in this moment. Fleur was making her feel so wanted, so desired. She felt like she was flying, and felt a definitive pool of moisture begin to grow between her legs. She also felt, however, the offensive material of Fleur's black lace bra that was still on her, preventing them from truly being skin to skin. As Fleur lipped, sucked and nibbled on her breasts, she fought her hands away from Fleur's hair and with determination, went to removing Fleur's bra.

Merlin, Hermione thought to herself, I take off my own bra everyday! How could it be so difficult to take off Fleur's? She grimaced, as she fumbled with the clasp. Impatience won out, and with a quick _Divesto!_ , she felt the most glorious feeling overcome her. Fleur was naked from the waist up, and oh my heavens, she was going to get to devour her.

Fleur, feeling the cold air suddenly hit her skin quickly looked up from her position at Hermione breast and a grin overtook her face. "My my, ma belle…" and with a growl, keeping her blue eyes completely focused on Hermione's brown eyes she began to slowly slide up Hermione's body and then, pressed her breasts to Hermione's without breaking eye contact. Both witches stopping breathing in that moment. All they could do was stare at each other in wonder, until both let out their collective breathes as the feeling washing over them.

It felt like magic, albeit a different kind of magic than the one they practiced everyday, but magic nonetheless, to be skin to skin with one another.

Hungry mouths found each other and their kisses felt electric. Hermione's arms held Fleur tightly to her, not wanting to let her witch move one inch. She needed Fleur to stay right there, in her arms, naked, pressed against her, forever. They continued to kiss and touch. Smile, and stare into one another's eyes, as sudden loud cheer came wafting through the window, starling them both of out of their haze.

**Quidditch!** Today was the big match between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and the tense Quiddich match had obviously had just started.

"Bloody Hell!" Hermione shouted! "I have to be at the game! I'm a professor! Oh Merlin, I'm so late! Oh Fleur, all Professors must attend Quidditch matches, regardless of our, well, feelings about them. We have to support our students, so I have to go!" In a frenzy, Hermione jumped out from under Fleur and began grabbing at her clothes. As she pulled her jumper over to head, she took a moment to look down at Fleur, whose blue eyes looked so…dejected. Hermione took a deep breathe, stopped and sat down next to Fleur. This woman had just taken her on the most amazing date of her life and she owed her more than just running out the door, even if she was late.

"My love," Hermione said gently, "I'm so sorry I forgot that I had to attend the game today. There is nothing more that I want then to spend the rest of the day, right here with you. I don't ever want this…this moment, to end Fleur. But I have to go to the game. And knowing just how much I, well, am not enthralled with Quidditch, I have to go. But…I have a totally selfish idea of how to make it better."

"Hmmmm," said Fleur. "Go on."

"Would you please please please come with me, Fleur? Pretty please! Come with me! Then we can sit together and both comment on how violent that bloody game is... what do you think?" Hermione begged.

"Ahhh ma belle, how can I deny you when you ask so darn adorably?" Fleur smiled.

Hermione jumped, grabbed her wand and with quick snap two steaming hot cups of coffee appeared just as Fleur finished putting on her shoes. "Love, our cloaks, let's grab them and go!" Hermione instructed.

And off they went to watch that _bloody Quidditch match_ , both wearing matching Gryffindor scarfs, together.  
TBC


	4. The Letter

**CHAPTER 4: THE LETTER**

(Co-authored with TiAdoro914)

Over the course of the next few weeks, the two smitten witches snuck off to see one other, as frequently as possible. At one point, Hermione had even strongly considered commandeering Minerva's time turner; fortunately, without a compelling need as a cover for its use, Hermione acknowledged she was a horrific liar and this plan was likely doomed. Thus, they continued to make do with "real time," doing everything humanly possible to spend every available hour talking, kissing and professing their affection for one another.

They didn't even require waking hours to be a part of the formula: plenty of evenings ebbed away, as they fell asleep, wrapped up in each other in Hermione's quarters; yet, this still seemed to add to their cache. No moment was wasted, they relished in every second they had together. Soon, it felt like a necessity. Their bodies seemed to crave the contact, requiring proximity, and it was irrelevant if it was in the awake or asleep state. They needed it.

The two lovestruck witches made valiant efforts to allot some time with Gaby and Narcissa; although, usually it was all lumped together, which the two abandoned blondes were fairly magnanimous about, all things considered. So agreeable, in fact, Narcissa and Gaby would compare notes, and frequently discussed amongst themselves the practically epic romance unfolding before their eyes. Gaby joked she was keeping notes for a tell-all romance novel, someday.

Literary works aside, Gaby was keeping notes, as ordered, by her mother. The youngest Delacour was giving her Maman and the occasionally the Veela Elders' nearly daily updates on "Fleur and Hermione's Developmental Progress," as the Elders termed it. Progress aside, Apollene Delacour, was most concerned if Fleur seemed happy, and how she was adjusting.

In short, her Maman demanded to know everything, from Gaby.

Gaby told her most of what she wanted to know, excepting the fact Fleur had essentially moved in with Hermione, spending every night with her witch. That might be considered too quick, even for a Veela mother's standards. Gaby soon discovered, she may have to reconsider that position: on one afternoon when she appeared by floo into her mother's fireplace, unannounced, she was regaled by the unexpected vision of her mother doing what Veela's do best: she was seducing a significantly younger man.

"Maman!" Gaby said, shocked, eyes wide in the fireplace. "What... _who_...Mon Dieu!"

Apollene covered herself gracefully, with a throw, and looked at her youngest, unapologetic. " _Laisse tomber_ , little one!" The matriarch ordered. "Now...do you come with news of my Fleur?"

Gaby began to report, as though nothing was out of the ordinary. Madame Delacour smiled wickedly at the dark haired man as he scurried off to find his pants. He dressed, quickly, and marveled at the force of nature that the was the elder Veela woman, who was speaking with her daughter, nonchalantly. Speaking as though they had not just been wildly obscene on that very couch which she now sat, pristine, speaking matter-of-factly with Gabrielle.

_Veela!_ He mused, as he quietly let himself out the back, as usual.

**XOXOXOXO**

One afternoon Hermione had snuck back to her quarters in hopes of stealing some moments alone with Fleur before having to go back to her students. She had had a particularly rough morning with her fifth years, taxing her immensely. Transfiguration class with both her Slytherin and Gryffindor students was never easy, as the two houses seemingly were destined to despise each other for all-of-eternity.

The exhausting nit picking between her students, likely because of the house cup points being so closely aligned between the two, put her in a foul mood, and she knew that a particular blonde would help to make it better. She had mentioned to Fleur this morning before she left that she had a break between 3:30 and 4:30. With a suggestive eyebrow waggle, Hermione mentioned she would do her best to come in and see her in her quarters.

As she un-warded her door, she found it odd that she was not able to waltz right in. She had anticipated Fleur to be there, but feared she was not. Progressing into her quarters she called out, "Fleur, love, are you home?" She was met with silence and another bout of frustration coursed through her already tense body. She really wanted her blonde.

She paced into the kitchenette with the intent on making some tea when she spied three half-full cups of coffee on the counter. Slightly perturbed, as her normally pristine space was not pristine at the moment. She washed the mugs and put them away, the muggle way, hoping the mindless act would ease some of her tension.

Walking into the living area with a steaming cup of tea, she could not help but glance at the door, really hoping Fleur would waltz in to great her with warm kisses. In the living area, however, she found several of Fleurs clothes strewn about. Books were littered over the coffee table along with another half-consumed mug of cold coffee. A few bags were thrown about the floor and she found a stack of hair ties on the couch.

_What the bloody hell Fleur?_ she mused. _Was it really that hard to clean up after one-self? Was it necessary to leave my normally ordered quarters in a state of disarray?_ Her frustration, fueled by the days events, caused her to slam her tea on the table and in a rather hasty move, begin to gather up all the mess left about. Picking up several pairs of those scandalously tight black jeans made Hermione shudder, thinking about those endless, smooth and delicious legs they held. And Fleur's bum, she could write sonnets about her bum. It was perfect. How could anyone have such a perfect bum, she questioned. But thinking about that bum made her upset, because she realized that her time was short between classes and even though she was being quite irrational, she had wanted to see her blonde witch.

Hermione folded up Fleur's clothes and placed them on the dresser in their bedroom, dropping the hair ties into the bathroom along the way. She went back to straighten up the coffee table and as she was organizing the items, she saw an unfolded letter on top. She did not want to pry, but maybe this could give her some clue as to where Fleur might be.

_Fleur,_  
Sorry to be the bearer of bad news Blondie, but I just heard from Kingsley. We are being sent out in a little over a week's time, to head to back to America to determine just how big of an issue that past threat poses to continue to be. I'm not happy about it either Blondie. I figured I'd give you a heads up, I'll pop over to Hogwarts to pick you up before we head out.  
Peace,  
Tonks 

Fear struck Hermione right in the heart. She could barely breathe. Fleur was leaving. And soon. The letter was dated TWO DAYS ago! TWO DAYS. Why had Fleur kept this from her? It's not like they had not spent every waking minute available together over the last two days. She had plenty of opportunity to warn her. What was she going to do, just up and disappear on Hermione? Leave without saying a word. Brush her off and forget about the love they were professing for one another.

She was furious. Hurt. Angry. And scared. Most of all she was scared. Could all of this, all of what was building between them have just been a pipe dream, something that was going to be ripped away from her without a thought. She had worked so hard in the past five years to get to a happy place. And now, with Fleur...she couldn't lose her.

Not knowing what to do, she got up and ran. She ran through the halls of Hogwarts, passing students and professors alike. She ran across the grounds, past the Whomping Willow and ran until she found her favorite path down to the lake where hopefully she could clear her mind. She ran until she reached the waters edge, and only in that moment did she stop to catch her breath. She realized she was crying, overcome with the idea of losing Fleur.

This was too much, she reasoned. This is why she had never fallen for anyone before. Because love hurts. Fleur has grabbed ahold of her heart and now she was terrified that she was going to let her go.

Through her sobs, she heard a rustling behind her and her named being called out, laced with concern and fear, "'ermione! Ma belle, what is it?" Fleur asked. She was terrified. She had come down to the lake earlier in the afternoon with her novel, she wanted some peace and quiet away from the students and time to think about how to progress her relationship with Hermione. She had gotten the letter from Tonks days earlier and she was not ready to go. She was terrified to tell Hermione, their relationship was so new and she was scared to upset the balance for fear of losing her mate. She must have fallen asleep thinking of how to approach this situation because she had awoken to the cries of what sounded like her witch, only to realize after following the sounds to the waters edge her Hermione was there, sobbing.

"'ermione!" she almost shouted.

Finally the brunette looked up at the blonde and said with a venom Fleur had not heard before, "How. Could. You? Am I just a game to you? A conquest along the way Fleur, someone to keep you company while you are here before you run off with Tonks again to save the world? Does everything we have experienced mean nothing to you?" Her voice was cold. Her eyes bloodshot and her hands quaking.

"Ma belle! What are you talking about? What ever gave you zis crazy idea?!" Fleur pleaded.

"I found the note, Fleur. The one from Tonks. From TWO DAYS ago. The one you failed to mention to me. I guess I'm not worthy to know about your plans, I guess I'm just someone to pass the time with. Because if you cared, Fleur, you would have talked to me! You would have told me you were leaving." Hermione sounded angry. And worried. And hurt, Fleur surmised.

"I came home to empty quarters, your stuff strewn about, practically moldy cups of coffee everywhere. I told you I was coming back to see you Fleur. And you were gone."

"Liszen, ma belle, I'm zo sorry you found zee note. I had not intended for you to find out zat way. I didn't know 'ow to tell you…"

As Fleur tried to continue on, Hermione interrupted, "So what, you didn't know how so you just thought you wouldn't tell me?"Hermione hung her hands in her head. "I can't do this Fleur. I can't. I have to go, and I need some space from you right now."

"But…you 'ave not let me explain," Fleur cried out. "Pleaze ma belle…"

"I've had enough." Hermione stated.

" _Enough?!_ " Now Fleur was becoming angry. She had planned to tell her witch. What zee hell, she thought to herself. She knew she was wrong, but Hermione's reaction was out of line. "Enough you say, 'ermione?! I find you in a heaping mess, sobbing, scared out of my mind, and before you even let me explain you say you need zome space? Well fine, take your space, I'll leave."

And in a huff, Fleur stalked away.

**XOXOXOXO**

The rest of that day was torture for both witches. Each was miserable. Hermione had to go back to her classes and her poor students were on the unfair end of her frustration. Fleur was furious. Hermione was her mate, but merde, she was acting crazy! Fleur went back to Hermione's quarters and got the items she would need for the evening. If her witch needed space, well fine, space she would get.

Poor Gaby had no idea of the tornado that would be descending upon her quarters when Fleur slammed in and slammed her body down on the couch. "Ca-va, Fleur, what might be zee problem, chère soeur?" Gaby asked, carefully.

" _Je ne veux pas en parler_. I need zee space to be angry! _En bon état?_ " Fleur stammered going back and forth between French and English in her anger.

At that, Gaby retreated carefully into the kitchenette, pondering her next move. When Fleur got like this, she knew from previous experience, it was best to leave her alone. "Soeur darling, I'm just going to 'ead out to the Great 'all for dinner. Would you like me to bring you somezing back?"

"Non! Seul. S'il vous plaît."

"Oui," Gaby stated and headed out the door. _Yikes._

**XOXOXOXOXO**

In the Great Hall Gaby found a despondent looking Hermione, who also said she was in no mood to talk. Narcissa and Gaby exchanged long, questioning looks, both shrugging their shoulders to let the other know they had no idea what was going on.

Dinner passed quickly and Hermione headed out as soon as she was able, pushing off the blondes stating again she was in no mood to speak.

Hermione stalked her way into her quarters and after a glass of wine and a feeble attempt at grading some papers, she took a sleeping draught and decided to turn in for the evening. Her head hurt, her heart hurt and her body ached for Fleur. She wasn't truly that mad, she had to trust that Fleur would have told her, and had she let her explain that afternoon she probably would have given her a good reason why she had kept this a secret. But in her heart, she was terrified. She was falling in love with Fleur and the thought of losing her was breaking her heart. Maybe she should end it before it got any harder, she wondered, falling asleep clutching Fleur's pillow.

Fleur, still sulking in Gaby's quarters, was still in no mood to talk when Gaby returned. Her and Narcissa could not figure out for the life of them what was going on between the two, but figured they needed to let tonight pass and hopefully they could help mend the situation tomorrow. A good nights rest could clear up many a heads.

Gaby carefully gave Fleur a kiss and let her know that she was there for her when she was ready to talk, and headed off to her bedroom. Fleur spent the evening crying herself to sleep, longing for her brunette witch.

**XOXOXOXOXO**

Fleur awoke the next morning to find herself wrapped in one of Hermione's jumpers, tears still in her eyes. She missed her witch more than she thought possible and knew she had to make the situation right. Her stubbornness had gotten the better of her the night before but she would not waste this time with her witch while she had it.

She got dressed, making a cup of coffee in the kitchenette realizing that Gaby had already headed out for the day.

Taking one of the faux flowers Gaby had in her quarters, Fleur transfigured it into a bouquet of purple roses. Cliché, she knew. But she had to do something. She quickly got ready, putting on her favorite pair of black jeans, knowing how much Hermione liked her in them. Stealing her nerves, she headed out the door to find her witch.

She approached Hermione's door and knocked. Please let her still be there, please please please, Fleur wished to herself.

"Hello Fleur," Hermione stated, looking small and broken. It was clear that she had spent some time crying as well, as her bloodshot eyes matched those of the blondes.

"Ma belle. I brought zese for you," handing her the roses, "and I was 'oping we could talk now. May I, well, may I come in?" she asked.

"Yes, of course, come in." Hermione headed to the kitchen to find a vase, and not locating one easily, transfigured a water glass into one to hold the roses. "Thank you Fleur, you didn't have to. I probably should have brought you roses the way I acted yesterday," she said quietly looking to her blonde.

"Oh ma belle, my beautiful witch, I am so sorry! I fell aszleep down by ze lake yesterday! I 'ad every intention of being back by ze time you said you might come by, zere iz nozing more zat I want, zen to be wiz you! I fell asleep because ze night previous I was up, tossing and turning, trying to figure out 'ow to tell you zat I was going to 'ave to leave."

Fleur's eyes looked genuinely pained. "When I got ze note from Tonks, I waz scared out of my mind! I am not ready to leave you, ma belle, and I waz so overcome wiz fear at zee idea... I pretended I 'ad not received it." She waived her hand, dismissively, at the annoying letter.

Her eyes returned earnestly to the brunette. "Ze next day, eet 'it me, and I waz, 'ow do you say, ummm, paralyzed? Oui. Paralyzed. I know zat zis 'as been so quick," she gestured between the two of them, "but ma belle... ze thought of leaving you is ripping my heart, to shreds."

"Fleur!" Hermione launched herself into her arms.

The Golden Girl asked, with some trepidation, "so, you don't want to leave me? You weren't going to just up and disappear and break my heart into pieces?" Fleur laughed, outright, at that statement. Hermione grinned, with relief. "I was so scared, gripped with fear, really... that you didn't feel the same way about me, that I do about you, Fleur!" Hermione stopped for a moment and looked deep into Fleur's eyes, " I know that I can't keep you locked up in this castle with me forever, but Fleur, I don't…I just don't want you to go."

"'ermione! Are you serious ma belle? You thought zat I was going to just leave, and not tell you? Truly ma belle? After everyzing zat we 'ave shared, you zink zat I would just leave?" Fleur asked with sadness laced through her voice.

"Fleur, my fear got the best of me. I've never, I've just never felt like this before, and I don't know what to do with all the things I'm feeling for you. I am terrified of what's next, terrified of you leaving, of everyone finding out, and terrified how we can make it work when you are gone, because Fleur, I want to make it work." Hermione blurted out. "And I'm tired of being...terrified."

_Enough_ , Fleur thought to herself.

Fleur decided to speak in the language she was most fluent, as sometimes English left her frustrated. Looking down at her witch, emotions overcoming her, she pulled the smaller woman close, melding their bodies together. She clutched Hermione's face, grasping on both sides, and the Veela kissed her.

She attempted to kiss her tenderly at first, with controlled passion. However, the Veela inside Fleur was tired of compromising everything they were and who they were to each other; it was clawing to get out. Fleur's lips pressed harder, more demanding...she refused to stop, or take a breath, or look away. Her only purpose in that moment was to taste her Hermione. Never had a simple touch seemed so purposeful; never had a kiss been so much more than just a kiss. Hermione felt breathless from the sheer intensity of the blonde's mouth pressing against her own. The emotions they both felt coursing through them was too much, and in a hasty action, mouths opened and furious, wet kisses consumed them.

Fleur nuzzled into Hermione's neck, panting and with a groan looked into Hermione's heavily lidded eyes. Fleur's eyes were dark, and they were starting to change colors further with her desire. Intellectually, Hermione realized her girlfriend was a magical creature; it was quite something else to see the beginning vestiges of Fleur's transformation to the creature...because she was unable to control herself due to her desire and lust.

Hermione realized that she was the cause of that barely controlled lust and desire. Desire that caused the normally refined Fleur Delacour to lose her grip on her transformation, and lose control.

Hermione decided in that moment she rather liked that.

She gazed up at Fleur, barely-holding-it-together, and whispered a single word, like a prayer. "Fleur..."

Fleur's smoldering eyes fixed on her, and the blonde let out an uncharacteristic gutteral moan. Without a word, her arm swiped downwards and gripped the collar of Hermione's dress robes. With one single fluid motion, Fleur literally ripped Hermione's robes off her body, the sound of ripping cloth filling the air.

Hermione gasped. She was familiar with being wanted for her knowledge, and her discipline; never had someone wanted her so much for her. A want that was so palpable... Fleur descended like a dive bomber to re-seal their lips, after admiring the fruits of her work, shredding the Transfiguration professor's robes. Her tongue was probing intently in Hermione's mouth, as though conquering a new undiscovered territory. She pressed her body against Hermione's naked curves, and it was then that Hermione realized that not only was Fleur still in clothing, she was wearing one of the Golden Girl's shirts!

"I think," Hermione exhaled, "I'm going to have to ask for my shirt back, Fleur..."

Fleur arched her eyebrow and ever so slowly while Hermione watched, star struck, Fleur dramatically removed the shirt in question and threw it across the room.

Hermione was chuckling, and getting ready to scold Fleur for not folding it, when her mind short circuted as she watched Fleur cup her own breasts in her hand, pushing at her cleavage. "Like what you see, 'ermione?"

Hermione's throat went dry. "I think I'd like it more, in my bed..." Lightening quick, Fleur began to pull Hermione. "Laissez-nous aller!" (alright, let's go!)

Hermione laughed, muttering, "pervert!" while pushing Fleur to the bedroom. The enraptured women were a mess of arms and legs as they tripped, pulled off clothes, laughed, and removed hair ties, as they stumbled their way towards what had quickly become their room.

Fleur threw Hermione down on the bed, and then stopped abruptly.

"Too. Many. Clothes." She stated. She quickly removed the remainders of each and undid Hermione's bra tossing it to the side, while Hermione divested Fleur of her bra. Not surprisingly, they soon found themselves down to only their panties. Interestingly, Hermione was wearing a light purple lacy pair with Fleur donning a similar pair in green.

Practically launching herself at the younger witch, she pushed her onto the bed and began a deliberate assault on her breasts. Her mouth hungrily consumed one, with her hand kneading and squeezing the nipple of the other. The moan that issued from Hermione's mouth charged Fleur, causing her nearly feral desire to flare. Hermione's moans were a sound for which Fleur could never be sated. Kissing her way back up to her neck, Hermione grabbed Fleur's hair and captured her lips.

"Want. You. Fleur." Hermione groaned.

"You have me, ma belle." Was the breathy response.

They continued to kiss, to grasp, to touch... each taking time to roll the other underneath, while adorning the other's body in kisses, everywhere. They could not get enough of each other, could not be sated; lost in a haze of lips and arms and breasts and legs.

Soon Fleur found her way between Hermione's hips and like lock and key, Hermione's legs wrapped around Fleur's waist, pulling her closer to the blonde. It was in this moment their cores connected. Fleur's eyes quickly found thier way to Hermione's and as they stopped for a moment to just feel one another, feel the heat and the need coursing through each other, they slowly began to rock together.

Fleur pressed herself into Hermione, feeling her wetness. Hermione lifted up, attempting to get as close to Fleur as she ever had before. "'ermione, oh ma belle," Fleur breathily exclaimed. Before she could even respond, Fleur's mouth crashed backed to Hermione's, using her tongue to caress every part of her mouth she could. She pulled back only a bit to nibble on Hermione's lower lip, all while continuing to rock her core against her witch.

Hermione could barely contain the passion she felt for her blonde goddess. Her hands roamed up and down Fleur's naked back, and when the ache between her legs became more than she could handle, she grabbed Fleur's ass with her hands trying to drive her into her further and direct her to where she needed her most. They were covered with sweat, worked to a frenzy of need and want and panting into each others swollen mouths. It was delicious, but Hermione, she needed release. She wanted to feel her everywhere and make her scream. She need needed to know what Fleur looked like when she came.

This was by far the furthest they had ever progressed and Hermione wanted Fleur with every fiber in her body. She never had felt a passion like this before and was simply overcome with emotions.

And while Fleur felt exactly the same way, as she felt Hermione grab her ass and press them harder together she realized that it was now or never. The Veela wanted her witch, her mate, she wanted all of her. She wanted thier bonding to process to progress, she needed to make Hermione hers, forever, but it could not happen like this.

It was clear they were quickly heading toward making love, but the blonde knew what that would mean for their bonding. Fleur realized she could not let that happen until she was completely honest with Hermione, about who she was to her.

She knew she had to tell Hermione the truth, and soon; but knowing she had to leave, it all felt so overwhelming to the blonde. She did not want to alarm the brunette, and also felt overwhelmed at revealing their destiny and future...should Hermione so chose to accept the bond, that is. Because Fleur and her Veela, were all in; they had already committed to the young witch from England. Discussing this lifetime bond seemed daunting, especially without the help of other, more experienced, Veela.

However, Fleur owed it to her mate, to do better. Gerding her nerves once again, she pulled away from the brunette beneath her. In one swift move, she rolled herself onto her back, and pulled Hermione with her, so she was holding her close, her arms wrapped around her younger witch. She conjured up a blanket to cover them, and carefully, Fleur tried to explain as best she could why she had stopped them from making love. "Ma belle... I want you. I want you, so desperately, I zink zat should be clear to you my love. But zere is somezing you need to know about me before we proceed. Making love," she said shyly, "iz so, so very special, to a Veela, in zis circumstance. And I want to make love wiz you, merde, do I!" Her face looked physically pained, as she declared, "But not yet. _Not like zis_."

"Ummm, Fleur? But...I want you too. You consume me, Fleur, like nothing else. I've never felt this before, never wanted anyone or anything like I want you." Said Hermione, painfully.

"I feel zee same. But I'd just ask zat we can make our first time, ummm, I'm struggling with this 'ermione, but not right now. Not zat I don't want too, but just not right now. As you know, I 'ave to leave in a few short days and I zink if we make love now I might not be able to go. And for now, I 'ave to ma belle. I 'ave too," she hung her head.

"Okay Fleur, if it's that important to you to wait, we will. But when, when will I see you again?" Hermione asked desperately. "I need to know."

"Your timing...est parfait, my love! I 'ad planned on asking you zis, albeit not after what I guess is our first fight?" Fleur laid a peck on her adorable nose.

"But now iz az good of a time az ever! Next month iz ze annual Veela ball, hosted by the Delacour coven. Actually, itz hosted by my Maman, and my family. Itz zee event of the year, Ze Delacour Estate Family Gala... Veela from all over ze world come to ze ball, most of ze influenctial French elite will be prezent. I did not expect my Maman to continue to 'ost zee ball, after zee passing of my Papa, but she iz insisting. So, eet would be my honor, 'ermione, if you would come to France wiz me, and attend ze ball as my date."

"Fleur," Hermione stated, her eyes growing wider by the second. "Truly, you want me at your side, to meet your family and your coven? Are you sure?"

"I am more sure of zis than anyzing I've ever done in my life. It would be my 'onor ma belle."

"Well, then... yes, Fleur. I'd love to be your date!"

Launching herself back in Fleur's arms, she kissed her senseless again. Hermione's attempts to communicate, via lips, in order to covey to her French witch just how happy she was, knowing that they had a set date to see each other again. Hermione felt honored and relieved that Fleur felt so strongly for her that she was going to meet her family.

Laying her head back down onto Fleur's still very naked and very enticing chest, Hermione snuggled into her witch, determined to relish every moment they had together.

**TBC**


	5. Ladies Who Lunch

**CHAPTER 5: LADIES WHO LUNCH**

It was a most interesting assortment of "ladies who lunch," at least to the other patrons of the upscale wizarding establishment. The interested observers watched, with varying levels of discreetness, the four witches who began brunch with Bloody Marys (also coined as "Bloody Mudbloods" in some circles at the upscale restaurant), and the ladies had recently switched to straight firewhiskey.

The raucous laughter coming from their table earned a raised eyebrow, or two, from the prim restaurant patrons and a few "tsk"ing noises, but most were curious.

How had this group assembled?

Narcissa Black, the patrician woman of refined breeding, the defacto head of the Most Noble House of Black and the epitome of pureblood supremacy; Hermione Granger, the famous Golden Girl- also known as the brains of the trio, and within the walls of this restaurant, the pain-in-the-arse mudblood; Ginerva Weasley, the famous chaser and captain of the current world champion Hollyhead Harpies Quiddich team, who had finally taken some time to visit her dear Hermione; and lastly, the unknown gorgeous blonde, who wasn't famous, but resembled the Triwizard tournament Beauxbaton champion from years back.

An odd group, indeed.

Snippets of their conversation were overheard, and the surrounding tables worked hard at appearing NOT to eavesdrop, despite their obvious attempts to do exactly that.

**XOXOXOXO**

"So, what's got your knickers in a wad, Hermione, that I was all but ordered to come drink with you slags?" Ginny chomped merrily through her five egg, two plain chicken breast high protein lunch. "I get this mysterious command howler from none other than the former Lady of Malfoy Manor at practice - scaring the bits off me, I might add - that demanded my presence at here to cheer up my fellow Golden Gryffindor."

"I did not command you, young lady." Narcissa corrected, stiffly.

"Did you threaten ze Imperius Curse, again?" Gaby whispered, conspiratorially, but loud enough for the entire table to hear.

Narcissa responded to Gaby, cooly, "there may have been mention of such a thing...but that would be highly ill-advised for a person in my position...so I can't recall, exactly, with complete recognizance, Gabrielle."

"You're scary, lady." Ginny said, shaking her head. She took a hearty bite of her generous lunch, gulping it down, and nudging Hermione. "Okay, so, out with it. What's the deal, GG? What's got your knickers in a wad that got that icy bitch over there to threaten me?" She swallowed. "Not that I'm complaining. I always enjoy an invitation to drink!"

"Eat, Ginerva. Not drink. Eat! I invited you to _eat_." Narcissa corrected, patiently. "It's been too long since you two have... _reconnoitered_ , and it was high time you got up to speed with the goings-on at Hogwarts," Healer Black declared, "especially since our little friend here has been so despondent." Narcissa frowned.

"Eating...drinking...ehh. Technicalities." Ginny waived off, dismissively. "Point being, why did you drag me out on my one day off in a month to meet you birds for … refreshments? Why are you despondent, Hermione?" She winked at Gabrielle, who chucked.

Hermione looked agitated, saying nothing.

"We need your help, Ginny." Gaby and Narcissa said, in unison.

"As usual. What's up?"

"Well, I, uh….My sister had to leave, two days ago..." Gaby paused, meaningfully. Narcissa and Gaby regarded their friend, then gave each other a knowing look.

Hermione merely looked glum. Ginny, glancing at her friend, patted her arm, and looked at the other two witches, now beginning to share their concern.

"Hermione?" Ginny asked.

"I, um, it's kind of a long story…." Hermione chewed her lip, and fell silent, looking away.

"What's a long story?" Ginny asked again, patiently.

"Um…there's this dance...ball... _thing_..." Hermione said, sentences fragmenting. She stopped talking and was clearly trying to stop tears from falling, again.

Narcissa and Gaby exchanged a look. Narcissa nudged Hermione, gently. "Is there something you want to ask your friend, Hermione, dear? You said you'd thought she'd help you..."

"Yes." Hermione replied, saying nothing more. Ginny now shared the looks with the other two women, all regarding Hermione. After a pregnant silence, the youngest witch finally broke, muttering out in French. Gaby rolled her eyes.

"Bloody hell!" The baby Veela huffed. "Cela est fucking crazy! Ginerva, what 'ermione iz so…ineloquently asking, iz zat she needs your 'elp. She's been asked to go to my family's event... ze Annual Delacour Grand Ball, next month."

That caused even the cynical Ginny Weasley Potter's eyebrows to raise. "Wow!"

"Indeed." Narcissa acknowledged, taking a long drink of firewhiskey, observing Hermione, closely.

The Quidditch star turned to Gaby. "Did you hook her up? That's one fucking hard ticket to score, I hear!"

Gaby shook her head. "Non. It iz difficulte, even for me! I am allowed only one additional guest, generally a date. I am not given additional tickets."

Ginny let out a low whistle. "So, Fleur's mini-me didn't hook you up?" Ginny guffawed, thumbing a gesture at Gaby. "Well, how'd you get hooked up, 'Mione? Who'd you screw?"

Gaby giggled, exchanging a look with Narcissa. "Zat iz part of ze problem, Ginerva, and why you are 'ere to cheer up your friend. We cannot, eet seems."

Hermione let out a furious blush, scowling at her two friends. "I screwed no one, Ginny. Merlin's beard, I forgot how crude you can be!" Turning to her other friends, she laced out, "And...why do I need to be cheered up? Why can't I be sad? That's part of the human condition, you know. I mean...you'd be sad, too, if your heart was ripped out of your chest when your special someone left!"

Gaby rolled her eyes, again. "You were 'ardly abandoned, 'ermione. You were "left," az you call eet, because zey 'ad to leave, ding dong! Az zeir job, you know, ze job? And just because you 'aven't made ze love yet, doesn't mean it won't 'appen...because it will, 'ermione!"

Ginny leaned forward, suddenly interested. The Quiddich star grinned an evil grin. "Yet? I heard the word "yet"...Well?" She poked Hermione. "Out with it! A romantic interest? Hermione! Who asked you? What's his name?"

Hermione let out a breath. She blinked slowly, steeling her nerves. Quietly, she answered, "Fleur. Fleur Delacour."

Ginny's eyes went wide.

" _Phlem_?" She said, incredulously. "You've got to be kidding me! **Phlem** , Hermione? _Really_?"

Ginny felt a sharp jab to her side, followed by a defiant French finger waggling in her face. "Hey!" Gaby said, in protest. "Zat is ma soeur!"

Ginny raised her hands, in surrender. "Sorry, old habits. No offense, Gaby, Phle- er, Fleur, was always a little aloof, for my liking. Standoffish. You know, like her!" She said, gesturing towards Narcissa. Narcissa raised her eyebrows. "No offense, Narcissa." She added.

Narcissa lip curled. "None taken, Ms. Weasel."

Gaby snorted.

Ginny chuckled, good-naturedly. "Back on topic. Hermione…uh, what to the actual fuck? What do you mean? What…" Her battery of questions were seemingly too much for Hermione to take in, as she raised her hand.

"Slow down, Red. I know it's a little…unexpected."

"Unexpected? Shit! Hermione, you do realize Fleur is…a woman, right?"

Hermione chuckled. "I do."

"And…that you are one, as well?" Ginny gestured towards Hermione's body, as though to refresh her memory.

"I am aware of that as well, yes." Hermione said, tersely.

"Well… _what the bloody hell_?"

Narcissa took in the two friends, amused, while she took another generous swallow.

Ginny continued, mind-boggled. "And that…the Delacour Ball is like…huge. Like, take the Yule Ball, and stuff bludgers up its ass, times, like, ten thousand!"

Gaby laughed. "Ze most accurate description I 'ave 'eard, yet, to describe zat clusterfuckery."

Ginny nodded her head, towards Gaby, in agreement. "Need I remind you what a basket case you were at the Yule Ball?"

"No." Hermione said, grimly. "So I guess it's good that you are here now, since you, well…you were instrumental in my…um, makeover, for the ball."

"Zat was your doing?" Gaby said, looking at Ginny, impressed. "You did an amazing job! From ze pictures I remember seeing, our GG...well, uh. 'ermione was…not 'ermione!"

Ginny chuckled. "My most amazing magic, yet, Gaby!"

"Stop, you two. You're embarrassing Cinderella." Narcissa admonished. "And Ginerva, may I remind you, you were invited here to cheer your friend up, and possibly offer her help. Not harass her," Narcissa concluded, sounding miffed.

Ginny nodded. "Right. Sorry, mate." She looked at Hermione, curious. "So, what, you need me to do your hair, again? I'm pretty sure you're wealthy enough these days, from your Golden Trio royalties, to hire someone to do that, GG."

Hermione looked agitated. "Yes, but I'm not comfortable with strangers…touching me, yet." She gave a knowing look to Narcissa. "And, well, you're my best mate, Gin. Plus, I need your help with how to…woo the ladies, so to speak."

Ginny furrowed her brow. "Come again?"

"Well, you know, I've never been with a woman before. I don't have a lot of experience in this area…"

"ANY experience." Narcissa corrected.

Hermione nodded.

"Well, you're sitting across from an actual Veela, Hermione." Ginny reasoned, as she gestured towards Gaby. "Shouldn't you be asking her? I mean, c'mon! They're sex personified, right? They seduce everything and every one! Shouldn't you be getting your pointers from her?"

Gaby looked amused. "While this is absoluztly correct Madame Weasley, I am 'sex personified' as you 'ave noted, but apparently she needed to talk to you, for some questionable reason as clearly you are quite far from 'sex personified' in your, ummm, fetching sporting attire, iz that 'ow you say," as she raised an eyebrow and looked from Narcissa to Ginny.

Narcissa snorted.

Ginny looked at her, next, giving her the trademark Weasley stink-eye. Narcissa put her hands up, in mock protest.

"Okay then," Ginny reasoned, "What about Lady Malfoy, over there? Its well known that you purebloods all hook up with each other."

"Oh, Ginny, don't stereotype." Hermione said, reproachfully.

"What, stereotype?" Ginny protested. "This is from the horses mouth! Andy, herself, told me she had shagged half the Slytheryn chicks by the time she ran off with Ted, and her psychopath sister," she looked at Narcissa, apologetically. "Er, not you, Cissy…the other sister, the crazy bitch, Bellatrix," Ginny explained, "Andy said Miss Running With Knives slept with the other half! It's well known that purebloods do that sorta shit. Why don't you ask her?" She said, defensively, waving her arms at the amused older blond woman.

Narcissa arched her eyebrows. "Don't look at me, Girl Weasel! I'm hardly the paragon of Sapphic how-to. I was betrothed at quite a young age and was faithful for the entirety of our marriage."

"Mon Dieu!" Gaby said, taking a drink of firewhiskey.

Narcissa snorted, in her refined manner. "Mon Dieu, indeed, Gaby. Anyway, after so long, well… I consider myself asexual now, at this point, of no help at all. Consider me a cactus."

Ginny huffed. "Okay, fine. Your hymen grew back."

Narcissa chocked on her drink, laughing. Ginny, however, was not laughing. She turned back, facing Hermione who had remained quiet.

"Well, why me, Hermione?" Ginny said, confused. "How am I going to help you… woo Phlem?" She grimaced. "Merlin's beard, I just said, 'woo Phlegm.' And…I think that statement just made me throw up in my mouth, a little bit."

Narcissa smiled, but schooled her features under Hermione and Gaby's stern glares.

"Well, you know…" Hermione said.

"Know what? What do I know, Hermione?" Ginny said.

"C'mon, Gin..."

"No! No 'c'mon Gin.' What the hell?"

"Ginny!" Hermione said, exasperated. "I'm asking you, because well…you know…you play professional sports!" Hermione reasoned.

"And?"

The fellow Gryffindor huffed. "Ginny!" Insisted Hermione, "You're being deliberately daft, I swear! Merlin's beard! You. Play. Professional. Sports!"

Ginny arched her eyebrows, causing the Brains of the Trio to frown.

"Gin, stop being so dense! I know you know how to woo the ladies." Hermione was beginning to sound irritated. "Have I mentioned, you play professional sports, for Merlin's sakes?"

"Oh my fucking hell…."

Narcissa interjected, attempting to bail out her younger friend. "In Ms. Grangers defense, Ginerva…you must admit, the papers seem to follow you and your friend, that Gwenog Jones, around quite a bit?"

Gaby nodded, in agreement.

Ginny looked around the table as though they had all gone nutters. "Holy shit, you mean my married friend with three children, Gwenog Jones? Are you three shitting me, for real?"

Hermione had the decency to look slightly embarrassed. "Sorry, Gin, I just assumed…"

"That's why you make an ass out of yourself when you assume, Hermione! I don't believe this... Might I remind you, I'm with your best friend, Harry? Your MALE best friend?"

Narcissa and Gaby exchanged a look. Gaby ventured a tentative, "well, we just azumed zat zat was….'ow you say? A mustache?"

Narcissa shook her head. "It's a beard, Gaby, not a mustache."

"Ah, oui! A beard. You know, your cover up?"

Ginny looked incredulous. "You three are mental!"

Hermione slumped miserably, on her hands at the table. Her intoxication wasn't helping matters, either. "Well, shit. So, no help, then. Crap." She peered up at Ginny. "Any chance you could help me get ready, Gin? Gaby's going to be too busy doing the reception."

"When is this Delacour gala?"

"Le 15 octobre, le mois prochain." Gaby offered, also tipsy.

Ginny growled. "Speak-o the English-o, Frenchy."

Gaby giggled. "Oh, zut! Sorry. It iz next month, the 15th of October."

Ginny looked apoplectic. "Oh, you mean during the Quiddich WORLD CUP?" She looked at Hermione pointedly.

"Damn, damn, damn!" Hermione uttered. "Well, you're out, then."

"Well, unless you could get a lesbian excuse slip from my lesbian coach to excuse me from my lesbian teammates so you can attend your lesbian party with your NON-LESBIAN friend, in tow, that is," stated Ginny.

"Bloody hell." Hermione lamented. "This is a disaster!"

As if things couldn't get worse, a very pugish looking woman sauntered to their table, making a beeline for Narcissa. Cissy's eyes widened, and then she went into immediate pureblood façade mode, in nanoseconds. Hermione shivered from the chill Narcissa could generate with little effort.

"Narcissa! How grand to see you, darling!"

"Hello, Eunice!" She said, her voice morphing into an obviously contrived, very practiced, lilt. "I haven't seen you in ages!"

They kissed on the cheek, without any actual contact. The unpleasant looking woman, clearly a pureblood society lady, looked disdainfully around her table.

"Why, Narcissa, what an…interesting collection of guests!" She sneered. "Are these some of the girls you teach at Hogwarts, these days?"

"Yeah, cause we're 8 years old," Ginny grumbled to Gaby, causing her to smirk.

The dark haired pureblood ignored the comment, altogether, and Narcissa smoothed it over, laughing. "Why, no, these are some of my fellow faculty members, actually," she said, gesturing around the table.

The woman's eyes immediately landed on Hermione's, as though pulled by a magnetic force.

"Ah, yes, how could I have been so remiss? The famous Hermione Granger, the brains of the Golden Trio, of course…" her voice dripped with distain, as though she had said, 'the piece of dog crap my cat just coughed up.' She looked Hermione up and down, as though she were at an auction. With a sneer, she said, "I should think teaching a bunch of snot nosed kids is rather tame, after saving the world from those loyal followers to the Dark Lord...hmm, Miss Granger?"

Hermione shrugged, nonchalantly. "Ms. Parkinson, isn't it? Pansy and Rufus' mother?" The tall woman nodded, in confirmation. Hermione smiled. "Well, it's like this: since most of the pureblood death eater scum is safely locked away in Azkaban these days, and we were successful in helping Harry kill the Dark Lord, well...there wasn't much for me to do. So, why not teach? It passes the time, and all."

Ginny broke out into an open guffaw. "Ohmigod, 'Mione." She leaned over to the confused French woman at their table, explaining in a whisper. "Let's just say, Hermione and that lady's daughter, Pansy, didn't exactly see eye to eye, at Hogwarts. They had a colorful past."

"Ah." Gaby said, nodding in understanding.

Ms. Parkinson fixed her eyes on Ginny. "Oh, well! More celebrities! The famous Hollyhead Harpy Weasley, as well! And your…" Her eyes looked disdainfully at Gaby. "…your girlfriend, I assume?" She gestured towards Gabrielle, who giggled.

Ginny slammed her hand down on the table. "Why does everyone think I'm a lesbian?"

"Gin, shh." Hermione laughed.

"Ginny, I zink eets because you eat my pussy, perhaps, belle?" Gaby reasoned, eyes fully of mock seriousness, causing the table to bust out in startled laughter.

Ginny merely gave Gaby the middle finger.

The dark witch was obviously not amused. Pulling herself into a haughty stance, she uttered, "Well, Narcissa, we wondered why you didn't make it to the tea party last week. I can only assume its because you're too busy associating with such charming mudbloods and blood-traders…"

Narcissa looked mortified.

"…And magical creatures!" Interjected Gaby, laughing. To illustrate her point, she transformed partially, her hands turning into talons. "don't forget zat!" She grinned, wiggling her talons in Mrs. Parkinson's direction.

The woman looked simultaneously horrified and disgusted, staring at Gaby's claws.

Gaby smiled, winningly. "But…in Narcissa's defense, s'il vous plait…she's not slumming. My family is obscenely wealthy and well-connected…so zere iz zat. It evens out." She winked at Narcissa, transforming her hands back into human fingers.

"Neat trick, Gabs." Ginny whispered.

"Zank you. Comes in 'andy, when opening ze mail!"

They both giggled.

However, their laughter stopped when they heard the cold voice speak. "I think you should take your leave now, Eunice, and stop insulting my friends, further." Narcissa said, eyes filled with fire.

Madame Parkinson looked flabbergasted, sputtering, "Narcissa Black. What your family would think of you now...I…why, I never…"

"You never what, Mother?" A voice chimed in, arriving to the table. "Sorry I'm late, I got tied up at Gringotts…oh! Hey, everyone!" The new voice belonged to none other than Pansy Parkinson, the daughter of the very terse woman standing before the table.

Pansy smiled, genuinely, in the direction of Narcissa and Hermione. Unaware of the previous tension, the former Slytherin said, "Hi, Cissy, Hi Hermione!" Pansy leaned over, and gave Hermione a large hug, which the Gryffindor returned.

"Pansy!" Her mother admonished.

"What?"

"You're hugging…" Her voice trailed off.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "What? The mudblood? Is that what you were going to say, Mother?" Pansy's jaw was set, as she looked at Hermione, mouthing an "I'm sorry." She turned back to face her mother. "Mother, we've been through this! I know you don't approve, but Granger and I have made our peace with each other. We were potions partners when we went back to school. She carried me on her back, through N.E.W.T. exams…and I've told you. I like her." Pansy insisted. With finality, she said, "She's my friend, Mother."

"Be that as it may, you're late. I have eaten, already. I will see you this Sunday, at the estate." The haughty woman turned, and gave a barely acknowledged, "Good day, Narcissa," as she left the restaurant.

Pansy looked where her mother had departed, a tad shaken.

"Well... that went well." Chuckled Ginny.

Pansy continued staring at the doorway, clearly lost in thought, when a gentle hand wrapped around her wrist.

"Would you like to pull up a chair, Pansy? It sounds like you could do with a spot of lunch." Pansy looked down, at the gentle smile of Cissy, and smiled in return.

"Well, I am hungry. The Goblins worked us all through lunch, today. We're having inspections, next week."

Hermione gave a clap of delight, and spelled a chair, next to her. She patted the chair, motioning for her former potions partner to take a seat. Pansy sat, gratefully, giving Hermione's hand a squeeze. Hermione quickly made introductions, and the former Slytherin and Gryffindor quickly started catching up, under the watchful eyes of the other tipsy table members.

Ginny leaned over to Gaby, and whispered, "Hey...mmm. Mini Phelgm...I may have to revisit my position on the Parkinson-Granger situation."

Gaby nodded, in drunken agreement.

Narcissa motioned for another round of Firewhiskey, and instructed the bottle to be left with Ms. Parkinson, as she had some catching up to do. Pansy attempted to apologize for her mother, but the group wouldn't have it. As lunch continued, the group lost track of time, laughing merrily, mostly at the expense of the fashion-challenged, love sick and miserable Golden Girl Gryffindor. Hermione was growing slightly defensive, spluttering at Pansy's critiques.

Pansy looked at her incredulously. "Bloody Hell, were you seriously considering wearing your cotton jumper dress to the Delacour Estate Annual Ball, Granger?" Pansy cackled. "Merlin's Beard, have I taught you nothing?" She patted Hermione on the arm.

"What? It's a lovely dress!"

"For a six year old, Mione." Ginny interjected.

Hermione huffed.

"This is serious, women!" Pansy implored the table. "Are you sure you can't help the fashion-impaired Gryffindork out, Weasley?"

The Redhead gave a cross. "Nope. Can't wing man on this one, I'm afraid. It's the World Cup."

"Oh, of course, how could I forget? Katie has our calendar painted in fluorescent yellow for that week. Duh!"

"Katie?" Three voices said, in tandem, with the single exception of Hermione.

Pansy blushed.

Hermione took a drink, grinning. "Way to out yourself, Pans." Hermione chuckled. "This is NOT a forgiving bunch."

"Merlin's beard!" Ginny looked apoplectic. "You….and Katie? As in… Katie BELL?"

Pansy looked mortified, saying nothing.

"Oh, behave, Ginerva!" Hermione interjected. "Why do you think Miss Queen Slytheryn became so tolerant of us non-purebloods?" She looked at the blushing Slytheryn next to her. "She fell in looorve…." Hermione teased.

"Shut it, Granger." Pansy replied, good-naturedly.

"Well…" Narcissa said, dramatically. "I guess that explains why your relationship with my son was…tepid, at best."

"Yes, I suppose. His requirement of actually wanting to have _'man-woman' sex_ with his future wife seemed to get in the way of our future."

Gaby spit out her firewhiskey, laughing. "Man-woman sex? Zis is hilarious!"

Pansy shrugged. "Okay, so, harassing me aside. What are you going to do about the social tragedy that is our brilliant but reclusive friend, here?" She nudged Hermione. "Ginny, I can't believe you're leaving her in her hour of need. Who will tell her what fork to use?"

"Shit, I just straightened her hair, before, at the Yule Ball! Now all of a sudden, I'm my sister's keeper! Look...she's on her own with forks, and receiving lines, and all that bollocks."

"It iz very formal, 'ermione, I am sorry…" Gaby said, wincing.

Hermione looked like she was going to throw up.

"Wait a minute!" Pansy interjected. "Gaby, didn't you say you're dateless?"

The Veela tensed, slightly. "Malheureusement, oui. I just recently broke up with mon copain and I'm not ready to faze the ball with any type of romantic interest. Even zoe I could 'ave many, I assure you," she continued playfully.

Pansy grinned. "So…take Narcissa!"

"What?" The elder stateswoman said, startled.

"Yeah! Cissy, lets face it, you are practically a textbook of social etiquette." Pansy reasoned. "You can make sure Hermione doesn't fall all over her tits and embarrass the shit out of herself, and that she doesn't wear that horrifying jumper dress, among other things." Pansy shuddered, in mock distain.

Gaby's eyes were merry. "Zat is une bonne idea, Mademoiselle Parkinson. Very good, indeed!"

"Okay, that's solved. Narcissa and Gaby, I assume you're going to take her dress shopping?" They nodded, affirmatively. "Moving on: Hermione…."

"Yes?" She said warily, reaching for the cheese platter.

Pansy eyed her, seriously. "So, have you ever munched a rug, before?"

Ginny snorted.

"What?!" Hermione looked around the table, shocked.

Pansy grinned. "You know…blocked the box? Gotten some lady lovin'? Boffed the bird?" Pansy waggled her eyebrows, gleefully.

Hermione cleared her throat. "I hardly think that's appropriate for a polite lunch conversation, Pansy."

"We're not polite." Ginny reminded Hermione.

"Hear, hear." Cissy seconded.

"So, no, then." Pansy grimaced. "Granger, pull out that parchment and quill that I KNOW you have in your ugly-ass bag, there. You're going to need to take some notes. I can tell I've got some work to do with you."

As the five witches put their heads together, laughing and rabble rousing, listening to Pansy recount various means in which to "munch a rug" as she so eloquently phrased it, the onlookers continued to actively feign disinterest. However, most were smiling, privately, wishing on some levels, they could have been seated alongside the odd bedfellows.

They looked like…well, fun.

Well…all of them, except that one famous girl, the one with the flushed face, with frizzy hair , taking copious notes intermittently, which caused her friends to laugh. The one who was secretly clutching a pair of what looked like black jeans under the table, practically stroking them, like a binkie...unnoticed by her lunch-mates.

She looked like...well, a hot mess.

**TBC**


	6. The Delacour Estate Annual Ball, Part I

**CHAPTER 6. THE DELACOUR ESTATE ANNUAL GALA, PART I**

Hermione's nerves were shot.

For what seemed like an endless series of days, she had been lugged through Diagon Alley by the annoyingly enthusiastic blonde tandem of Cissy and Gaby, in a whirlwind fury of their retail frenzy. Hermione would stare, longingly, at Flourish and Blotts while forced to march past, only to be yanked away by one of the two of them into yet another dress shop.

"Non, 'ermione! Eyez on ze prize!" Gaby would insist. "We only 'ave a week left, to make you presentable!"

"Oh, Bloody Hell." Hermione grumbled. "Fine! As long as it doesn't entail you measuring my "inseam" again, I suppose I'll survive…" Hermione grumbled, referencing Gaby's overly frisky measurements of her bust, waist, and inseam earlier in the week.

"Vous m'insulter!" Gaby said, in mock indignation. "What waz wrong wiz my 'inseasm' estimations, Belle?"

"Really, Gabrielle?" Hermione stated plainly.

"Yes, really, Gabrielle?" added Narcissa, chuckling.

Ignoring the Gryffindor, Gaby looked at her fellow towhead. Gabrielle immediately huffed, "What do you mean, Cissy?"

"Come on, Ms. Delacour! Don't act all innocent, now! I saw you take poor Hermione's dress measurements the other day! Gabrielle Delacour…not only was it NOT done in the typical manner in which most wizards or house elves take measurements, I dare say, you may have gone further in terms of sexual endeavors with Ms. Granger than another blonde Delacour in your lineage!"

Hermione snorted with laughter.

"Bah! You two make such ze hills out of ze mountains!" Gaby dismissed.

The scholar in Hermione couldn't resist correcting Gaby. "Er…I think you mean mountains out of molehills."

"Whatever! Hills, trees, mice, who cares? Look, Narcissa, I can assure you zis: if zat was sex, zen ze brightest witch of our generation needs to remediate wizarding 'ealth class, because zat left a serious amount to be desired! "

Narcissa chuckled, amused by Hermione's rising embarrassment.

The youngest witch was now on a roll, gesticulating furiously. "Furzermore, I am French, Cissy! AND I am Veela! Remember!?" Gaby embellished with an extra flourish on the last point. "AND, as a French Veela, Madam, I assure you, I would recognize ze sex eef eet 'appened! Zat, Madame, waz no sexual activity, I can say wiz certainty!"

Cissy and Hermione were speechless at Gaby's pressured oratory. Narcissa cleared her throat. "I have no doubt of your authority on the matter, Mademoiselle." The healer replied. "Cheeky witch."

"Well, since you didn't even offer me a cigarette afterwards," Hermione interjected, "does that mean I get to go to Flourish & Blotts, by way of a make up?" She looked up at her shopping companions, hopefully.

" **No**!" The blondes replied simultaneously.

Hermione groaned.

**XOXOXOXOXO**

The day had finally arrived, and the three friends gathered their one singular bag they packed, that Hermione had charmed for them all with her signature extension charm. The excited witches prepared for the transatlantic floo transport required to get to Versailles, to Gaby's family estate. Gaby was practically vibrating, she was so excited to get home.

Hermione had a cautious enthusiasm, in contrast. She was glad in the sense that she would get to see Fleur, finally; but she was decidedly not glad she would have to endure what was coming, in order to do so the day after tomorrow.

Interestingly, Hermione's contact with her date was surprisingly minimal over the past week; Fleur was out of country on a mission. Being Fleur, she had thoughtfully sent a brief note reassuring Hermione she would see her that evening following, and how much she was looking forward to it and how much she missed her.

"Ready, Beetches?" Gaby said, her accent growing thicker, if that was even possible. She was the first in the cue to depart. She turned and grinned to her pals. "Let'z go get our Balls on!"

**XOXOXOXXOXOOX**

As Narcissa diligently helped put Hermione together that afternoon, patiently straightening her hair, and buffing her nails, the younger witch couldn't help but lean into the touch, and sigh.

"What is it dear? Did I clip you, accidentally?"

"No…" Hermione said, sounding very far away. "You're smashing, actually. It's just that…" she shook her head. "You remind me of…home. Of…my mum." Hermione's eyes went wide, suddenly, the realization of what she said, hitting her. She quickly added, "I mean, not that you're old, or anything, Cissy! I…meant…"

Narcissa laughed. "Dear, I actually am old enough to be your mother, no offense taken."

Hermione still felt bad, clearly. "But… you're my friend, Cissy, not my pathetic subconscious' poor-Freudian-slip-excuse, for a mom."

The pure-blood frowned, brows knotted. "I have no idea what you just said, Hermione, but I would suggest this: I agree…we're friends. But it would be understandable, I suppose…" her voice trailed off as she wrestled with a particularly difficult ringlet and knot that refused to behave in Hermione's hair. Eventually victorious, she resumed her thought. "Anyhoo, as I was mentioning…we do have that sort of…generation gap, for lack of a better term."

"Oh, Narcissa, you know…despite the fact you're older, perhaps you could take solace in the fact you're actually much hipper than I am."

"Without question, Hermione!" She replied, not a lick of humor in her voice. "But dear, I'm honored that you also think of me as someone that could care for you like only a mother can, as well." Narcissa Black regarded her former mudblood advisory, adding sincerely, "…because I think of you as a daughter, Hermione."

Hermione looked shocked, as Narcissa went back to taming her mane. It wasn't until her hairbrush snapped in two that she finally looked up at the younger Gryffindor, noting the early vestiges of shining tears hinting of their imminent appearance. .

"Oh, no, no, no, dear! None of that – it will smudge your make-up, and I quite simply do not have time to perform another cosmetic miracle and get us there on time, again!" She scooped up Hermione in a deep hug, which soothed the girl, immediately.

"Hermione," Narcissa leaned down, whispering into her ear, despite the fact they were completely secluded from anyone else. "Hermione, you know, I've always wanted a big family."

"What happened?"

Narcissa looked grim. "It wasn't in the cards. So it was only Draco, for me. But now, I feel like a tiny part of myself got the daughters I always wanted, in Gaby, and especially in you, my dear Hermione."

The Golden Girl smiled, relaxing into Narcissa's embrace.

"If they could see us now…" Hermione chuckled.

"Mmmm," Narcissa hummed. "They'd ask why on Merlin's eyeball we aren't ready with only 45 minutes to go, I'm afraid. Get dressed! Now."

"Fine! I'm going, you pushy pure-bred." She teased, recalling Gaby's colloquialism.

**XOXOXOXOXOX**

The care that Narcissa had obviously taken to prepare Hermione entire aspect of preparation for the evening en toto, deeply touched the younger witch. Every detail, down to the most minute, had been painstakingly attended to, in elegant fashion. Hermione Granger was a vision, in her periwinkle dress that showed off her lithe figure, hugging her in all the right places, while being perfectly appropriate to meet the mother and family of her witch. She had Gardena's woven into her beautiful hair; a loose French twist, with ringlets accenting the sides of her face, with only small diamond studs accenting her ears.

Narcissa had rehearsed the etiquette of the ball with the Gryffindor over and over; Hermione felt like she could navigate receiving lines, silver service for 14 courses, and the waltz in her sleep. (She had even joked if it had been she and Narcissa on the hunt for horcruxes, instead of the Golden Trio, it would have taken them 8 days, tops…to which Narcissa replied 'More like 6 days…I could have just gone into Bellatrix' vault instead of that ridiculous, ballsy move of yours you pulled with the Polyjuice.')

Gaby was able to sneak away from her hosting duties around 6pm, escaping to see her two friends.

"Mon Dieu!" Gaby said, exhausted, as she burst into their suite. "I 'ave been at eet, since 5am! Fleur 'as not yet arrived, and I 'ad to do 'er job, az well! I need a cigarette, and I don't even smoke!"

As Gaby entered, she was surprised to see the trembling backside of Hermione, who was cradled in the arms of Narcissa, who at that moment, was clearly comforting the younger shaking witch, and embracing her tightly. Hermione had had a flashback of her horrible time under the torture of Narcissa's demented older sister, and Narcissa was comforting her. Gaby had the unfortunate timing of walking in, seeing only Narcissa with a deeply worried expression, and her gentle kisses to the side of Hermione's face.

Gaby frowned, and did what she did best: she lightened the mood.

"Beetches! I 'ave been trying to get you to explore your Sapphic tendencies for montz, now Cissy, and I walk into discover you zat you two slutz are doing eet behind my back? Witzout moi? I am so offended!"

The two women sniggered, in spite of themselves. Gaby, satisfied, walked over to Hermione, her expression quickly turning soft and concerned for her best mate.

"Gravité, my dearest 'ermione, iz zere anyzink I can do, for—" Gaby stopped, mid sentence, as soon as she saw Hermione full on.

Gaby stopped in her tracks when she saw Hermione. Gaby let out a low whistle, her eyes appreciatively raking up and down Hermione's visage. "Incroyable! Narcissa…." Gaby exhaled, her thrall dripping off her in waves, "zis might be your most astounding magic, ever!"

"Oh, hush, you!" Hermione said, swatting off Gaby, laughing; her previous PTSD forgotten.

"I'm very serious…if Fleur fucks up, or doezn't make eet zis evening, I cannot be 'eld responsible for my actions…"

Narcissa chuckled, causing Gaby to regard her other friend, fully. "Woah! Narcissa!" Gaby said, eyes widening, almost comically. "Vous êtes un morceau de gateau, aussi! You look delicious, az well!"

The Veela appreciatively took in the older blonde, dressed elegantly in a Aquamarine dress with white accents and tasteful diamond jewelry. Gabrielle Delacour grinned, waggling her eyebrows. "I see why you are ze talk of the Veela, Madame Sexualité!"

"What?" Narcissa asked.

"Ze Veela Clans – ze 'eads of all ze clans are 'ere tonight, not just ze Delacours, although ours iz ze most powerful," she said, seriously. "Ze 'ave been talking about who ze 'mysterious English Veela' iz 'ere, az zey were not aware of an English Veela faction."

"What English Veela?" Hermione asked.

Gaby pointed a finger at Narcissa. "Zat one, zere!"

"What?" Narcissa said, shocked, placing a hand on her own chest. "Me? Hardly!"

The three witches laughed.

Hermione stated the irony of that gossip. "My arse… her family refused to even befriend anyone who wasn't Pure Blooded, and they certainly weren't bloody well going to shag them and introduce them into the family tree!"

"Toujours pur!" Narcissa said, with a false haughtiness, as she poured herself a shot of firewhiskey, musing at the gossip surrounding herself.

Gaby marched over to the pureblood, and held up a shot glass for herself, as well, motioning Narcissa to pour.

"Eet iz a compliment, Narcissa, ze Veela downstairs are all insizting zat you are too good looking to be merely an 'ordinary' witch."

Hermione and Gaby chuckled to see the modest blush creep across the elder Black's expression. Narcissa merely poured Gaby a drink, silently. Gaby downed her shot, wiping her ruby red lips and shaking her head.

XOXOXOX

Narcissa and Hermione continued to glance at the clock. The ball was scheduled to begin, and there was still no sign of Fleur; only Gaby seemed unparsed. Hermione had worn a track, practically, in the throw rug. She looked up at Narcissa, nervous.

"Narcissa…" Hermione began.

But before she could get another word out, Madame Black interrupted her.

"Merlin's Beard, Hermione!" Narcissa was firm. "For the twentieth time, within the span of 10 minutes, the answer is no. No, I do not think any ill has befallen Fleur! No, I do not think she has changed her mind about taking you as her date! And no, I do not think she has had an unexplained memory lapse causing her to forget the address of her home, here in France!" Narcissa huffed. "Just….no, Hermione. NO. No to any of the inane questions you are going to ask that we've already ruminated about in great length…multiple times."

Gaby looked, for all practical purposes, like she was going to explode withholding her laughter from Narcissa's outburst.

"Um, I zink, 'ermione…." Gaby giggled. "What Cissy iz trying to say, iz zat she zinks, as well, uh, we both zink zat it iz merely zat…Fleur is running a little late, n'est ce pas?"

Hermione continued to fidget and pace.

Mercifully for Narcissa and Gaby, there was a knock on the door.

Unfortunately, it wasn't the late blonde Auror, rather the senior house staff coming to inform Gaby and Narcissa they needed to come downstairs, and take their places for the oncoming process, by command "invitation," of Apollene Delacour.

They looked apologetically at Hermione.

"No, no…you go. I'll stay here, and wait, for Fleur to arrive. If she does, that is."

Hermione sighed, as her friends left, and sat on the bed, waiting for her witch.

Eventually she lay down on the bed, removing the evil heels Narcissa had picked out for her, staring at the ceiling.

To calm her nerves, she began converting the name "Fleur Isabelle Delacour-Granger" into character number arithmancy table derivations. Before she even realized it, the studious woman had fallen dead asleep.

**XOXOXOXOXOXO**

Hermione startled, feeling the longest eyelashes ever, fluttering against her cheek.

She let out a sleepy, "Fleur? Is…you?"

The brunette felt a hearty chuckle reverberate against her neck, as the softest of lips danced, delicately, across her neck. The melodic cambre of Fleur's throaty voice vibrated against the skin on her neck, causing goosebumps to rise.

"I would 'ope no one else would be privileged to zis, ozzer zan me, ma belle…" she continued to let the lightest of kisses peck against the disoriented woman's neck and face. Her warm breath tickled her neck, and made her feel the arousal, immediately.

"Mmmm… Fleur…I missed you. I missed you so much."

The room was now dark, and Hermione was extremely disoriented. What she lacked in visual perception, however, was compensated for by touch, smell, and what could only be described as raw emotion.

"Oh, Fleur," Hermione yawned, finally rousing, the euphoria of Fleur-ness enchanting her senses awake, "I was so worried about you! What happened? Was it…work?"

Fleur merely kissed her neck. Murmuring against her skin, the blonde finally gave a vague, "Well…yes, and no. Oui, ze mission did take longer zan expected, mais alors, but, truthfully… eet waz somezing else, entirely, zat kept me away. I am sorry, 'ermione, but I will explain, later. I missed you too ma belle. Missed you more than I zot possible. Forgive me?"

She continued to pepper kisses on her neck.

"There's nothing to forgive," she said, as she snaked her arms around Fleur's neck above her. "Now that you're finally here, anyway."

Fleur touched her forehead to Hermione's, looking into her eyes, releasing a trapped breath, within. "Bon."

There was something, just so delicious, so decadent, about hearing Fleur say things like, "Bon." It was just a word, really; but somehow, when Fleur said it, it had the promise of something more. Always something more.

The groggy English witch pushed up, propping up on her elbows. "Well, now that you're here, let's have a look at you, shall we?" Hermione asked, voice slightly raspy.

In order to look at her absentee date, in her fully glory, Hermione glanced towards her end table, casting a wandless "Incindio", lighting the candle set at her bedside. The warm light immediately bathed the room, and Hermione turned back around, and let out a tiny startled gasp. She gasped, at the truth that that light would reveal, to her, regardless if those truths had been made evident to her prior to tonight.

Without the daily physical proximity of her witch, she was able to put those truths in some compartmentalized area of her back brain. But looking at her, accented so perfectly in the candlelight, with the adoring, steel blue gaze directed at her, Hermione sighed. She sighed, because, well….because.

Because, Fleur was so…devastatingly beautiful.

Never in her life, to her recollection, could Hermione remember having seen anyone, or anything, of such absolute perfection. Fleur Delacour, languidly hovering above her, propped on her elegant left arm, was perfection.

And on Fleur Delacour, perfection looked effortless.

So staggered was the younger witch, that she for once didn't focus on her own self-perceived inadequacies when next to the blonde goddess.

Hermione gushed. "Fleur, your dress! Your hair! Oh, my…I…I, well, I mean to say, you're absolutely… stunning, my beautiful one. Stunning."

It was Fleur's turn to blush. She opened her mouth to say something, and then just shut it, suddenly seeming unsure. She couldn't determine the cause of her muddled thought, but when she glanced back up at Hermione, and looked at the well of love that was full in her one's eyes, she realized.

What Fleur saw, in that moment, the utter reassurance…it filled her with total love.

"Zank you." She said quietly.

Hermione tentatively reached over to Fleur, stroking her cheek, tenderly, with the tips of her fingers. As she ghosted the tips of her fingers across Fleur's flawless complexion, Hermione frowned.

"Fleur, darling….is something the matter?"

Fleur shook her head, 'No.' In contrast, tears were threatening to spill out from the enormity of her feelings. Hermione's eyes, as a result, were laced with concern; but she remained quiet, patiently regarding Fleur and touching her gently, waiting. The silence grew heavy, after awhile. The Veela attempted to clear her throat, in an effort to speak, because she knew her inarticulate self would alarm unnecessarily the "Mother Gryffindor of Worry", Hermione Granger.

So the overcome Veela attempted to express, verbally, what had overcome her, emotionally – and quite unexpectedly.

"My dear one, 'ermione…." Fleur's voice was so uncharacteristically unsure. "All my life, or at least, zince puberty, je sais…." Fleur looked at Hermione, meaningfully. "I 'ave always been called "beautiful" until eet lost meaning, to me. I do not mean to sound…arrogant. But over and over, so many times in my life, I zink I 'ad, well, lost count."

"That's because you are gorgeous, Fleur." Hermione said, gently. "It's an accurate compliment."

"Peut-etre, 'ermione…perhaps accurate, to some…but definitely not honest. Eet alwayz came, from a boy….zome thrall-addled mind, from some drooling sycophant. Zey saw zee Veela, zey felt ze thrall... and eet didn't take long to grow to despise ze complements, after a time."

Hermione nodded, but she held her tongue.

Fleur was now clutching Hermione's hand, as she looked intently into Hermione's eyes, as though through sheer force of will she could impart what she was trying to say directly from brain to brain transplant, and spare herself the discomfort of reliving this empty life again…out loud.

"But just now, 'ermione? Ze way you looked at me, when you turned on ze light?"

"Yes?"

"Oh, mon chouchou, don't you know? Eet was.. so different! Zis time, for ze first time in my grown up life, I felt eet, from you. Ze words…ze words sounded…sincere."

Her voice broke, trailing off. She glanced away, but it didn't hide the fact a solitary tear formed, which Hermione gently wiped away. Even then, Hermione still remained quiet, simply looking attentively at Fleur, gently.

The blonde took a deep, self-collecting, breath.

Her eyes drifted upwards, regarding Hermione. The Frenchwoman spoke, speech halting, at times.

"Zis iz… ze first time in my life, zose words were spoken by someone wiz a clear mind, and bright eyes! I could see your eyes. I could feel…zat you meant eet. Zere waz no thrall poisoning ze complement; ruining eet entirely." Fleur looked at her, with so much emotion, as she said, barely above a whisper, "eet simply, waz, 'ermione…." She halted, taking a breath.

The look she gave Hermione nearly broke the younger woman's heart, on the spot.

"Oh, 'ermione….For ze first time, I felt…loved, and adored. Loved, for me, and not my Veela 'eritage." She gushed a genuine, "Zank you, Ma belle."

The Veela, as though exhausted from the confession, bent down, placing her head on Hermione's chest, and curled into her.

Fleur's long lashes fluttered, and she closed her eyes, as her head came into contact with Hermione's skin. Fleur released a breath, relaxing finally, as she listened to the calming heartbeat of her incandescent Professor, underneath.

They laid there, for a long while, Fleur nearly dozing off. Before the blonde nodded off completely, she felt a gentle touch rousing her, lifting her chin, upwards.

Hermione was gazing at her, adoringly, with a genuine smile. Her fingers, despite Narcissa's best efforts to the contrary, still were far from polished, but they felt like the softest velvet, to the Frenchwoman.

Those fingers tilted the Beauxbaton's chin, delicately. Fleur could feel her; feel her Hermione, as though she was willing her, from the depths within her soul, to return her gaze.

The room seemed…abstrusse. And oddly quiet.

"Fleur." Hermione's voice was low, breaking the still of the dark room.

"Oui, ma belle?"

"I've been thinking, about what you said. And I think…" she paused, looking at Fleur as though she was weighing her thoughts, carefully.

Fleur's eyes then drifted upwards, taking in the thoughtful witch. She roused her groggy head, clearing her mind, and pushed upwards, until she was level with Hermione, leaning on one arm.

Hermione began stroking Fleur's cheek, again. So gently.  
"I've been thinking, Fleur. There's so much you've probably never felt was for you, before. And, well," Hermione felt her face involuntarily flushing. "Well, if you would…let me show you, Fleur."

"Show me?"

"Yes, show you. Show you how much," Hermione bit her lip. "It's just… I want you to feel…what I feel. I want to show you…how much I really, really love you Fleur, and genuinely admire you."

"Okay, but in what-"

Before Fleur Delacour could articulate an actual question, she felt Hermione cup her hand on the back of her neck, pulling her in. The lion in the Gryffindor roared, and once Hermione was decided, there was no going back on a decision. So, the little English witch did it.

She leaned in, towards Fleur.

The woman known for her verbosity, oddly, had decided to let her actions speak for themselves. She had never been the aggressor in their relationship, albeit in its infant stages, but she knew she had to channel her inner Gryffindor and find the courage to show the woman she was truly loved, in the language of the Veela.

Because she did love her.

So much.

The heady scent of Fleur assaulted the younger woman's senses, and she felt herself melt into Fleur, becoming jelly, despite the fact she had initiated this, for once.

Hermione pressed her lips to Fleur's, with a gentle fierceness that was quintessential Hermione. Her kisses felt determined, as though longing for the prize after great endeavoring

She nipped Fleur's lower lip, earning a small moan, from the startled woman, pressed against her. Granted, Hermione's kisses were not polished, nor overly confident; what they were, however, was passionate and earnest, just like the woman they came from. Fleur felt her entire body shake, in response, as though a small earthquake originated from Hermione's lips as the nucleus. The amorous "tremor epicenter", as it were.

Hermione hesitantly pushed them backwards, spilling onto the bed, and topped the blonde witch. Positioned underneath Hermione with their lips still connected, Fleur realized it was clearly a position she was not familiar with, being underneath. She had not found herself in this situation often. While she was not exactly comfortable with…being topped… she found she didn't mind so much as she felt Hermione's tongue wrapping around hers, with such polite passion.

The Veela purred, slightly, with contentment. Never had she been kissed like this…

ever.

Never had she felt so much, from just a kiss…ever.

Fleur thought she couldn't help, nor be held responsible, for the fact that her hands had a mind of their own. She thought her defense would simply be…'It was the skin of the woman who enraptured me, so, I plead not guilty, your honor.' Her hands crept around Hermione's backside, slowly unzipping the dress, languidly. Halfway down, she unhooked Hermione's bra, noting the tiny hitch in her breath as they continued to kiss, and she continued.

However, she nearly derailed in her mission when she felt Hermione buck, slightly, and press the warmth of her core against her own. Then, when the dizzying smell of her mate's arousal drifted upwards, one that the Veela's highly developed olfactory senses tuned into immediately, she came undone. Fleur was tipping out of control. She arched into her touch, towards the contact of Hermione's hot core, and she pressed back, intently, to her one.

Her mate.

Fleur let the reality and the finality of that label swallow her whole, filling her with such completeness, and she wantonly let out a more carnal moan, this time.

The sound caused Hermione's eyes to snap open. Her hands were ensconced in Fleur's hair, gripping it, as though she was afraid Fleur might turn away, if she didn't hold tight. Without releasing her grip, Hermione pulled her lips away from ravishing Fleur's, and began looking at the blonde.

"Fleur?"

Fleur said nothing, merely staring at her mate, with her intense brown eyes and swollen lips caused by her zealous kisses. Fleur thought Hermione had never looked so beautiful, as now.

"Yes, ma belle?" Fleur answered, voice raspy.

Hermione spoke with determination, keeping her fingers gripped in Fleur's blonde tresses. "Fleur…let me be clear. I want to be a part of you. Right now, right this very minute."

"A part of me?" Fleur clarified.

Surprisingly, Hermione didn't look embarrassed, or awkward, or even a little bit nervous. She did relax her grip, however, unclenching her hands balled in Fleur's flaxen locks. She smoothed over Fleur's hair, almost apologetically, while she spoke. Despite her tiny smile to the contrary, Hermione managed to look very matter-of-fact, like a true Gryffindor.

"Fleur….Fleur, I need you."

Her dress slid off her left shoulder, where Fleur had unzipped her earlier. Hermione shrugged off the wayward dress strap, entirely, causing Fleur's brain to short-circuit, slightly, as more of that wondrous skin came into her line of sight.

"Nee—? Ohhhh..." Fleur's eyes went wide, with realization. Then, she looked nervous. "Oh, ah…'ermione, while I 'ad 'opted….zat you would feel zat way…"

Hermione merely nodded, staring intently at Fleur's lips, licking her own.

Fleur cleared her throat, distracted. "Ma belle, while I am…of like mind, and very excited, I 'ad expected zis would be…après…after ze Ball. My mozzer is so furious zat I am so late…and zere are some zings, zat I zink we need to talk about…"

Hermione cut her off, mid-sentence. "Fleur?"

"Yes, 'ermione?"

"While normally, I would commend such a vociferous response…in this instance, please allow me to request: enough talking. "

Hermione pressed her lips to Fleur's plump, rich ones, after breathing out a heady, "Fleur…take me. Now."

Fleur had had so much she needed to say to Hermione; so much to do, aside from the issue of ensuring "informed consent" regarding their mating, and the fact lovemaking would seal their bond.

She had good intentions, she did, and Fleur had been armed with all the accouterments necessary to discuss this in the traditional manner with the muggleborn witch after having spent some much needed time with certain Veela elders. However, the recent untimely separation of Fleur from her mate, immediately post- bonding, prior to completion of their sealing, had been terribly upsetting for Fleur's equilibrium.

Her personal homeostasis was completely askew, and her ability to resist was shaken. She didn't care about doing things the right way. She was hungry…so hungry, for her mate. To touch her. To have her….all she could think about was the physical urge to complete their seal. Everything else was becoming irrelevant in the face of her physical need. Her Veela hunger. The Veela did not require any further instructions, once Hermione gave her permission, regardless of how incomplete the permission may have been.

Fleur did not waste a single moment with superfluousities. She was not interested in laboring over the unzipping and unpinning of formal dresses; instead casting several spells in a row to divest them of the unwanted outerwear. (As a nice secondary touch, they were hung up on the wardrobe, freshly pressed and waiting. She was a civilized animal-of-prey, after all.)

Now, with her true love above her, without barriers, physical or emotional….her one true love looking down at her, so ripe….well, the Veela could only withstand so much.

"Fleur." Hermione responded, simply. The feeling of naked skin against naked skin, breasts against breasts, wrapped up in each other was intoxicating is such a profound way.

Despite the urges the both obviously felt, they managed to pause, momentarily, looking at one another. Despite their lack of first hand experience with Veela Bonding, they both intuitively realized this very moment would change their lives forever. However, Fleur could no longer withstand her primal instincts, calling to her at the most basic level.

It was Fleur's turn: She leaned in.

Her eyes looked dark, and full of purpose. "Tell me 'ow you want it," Fleur Delacour exhaled, voice entirely too sexy and sinful, the Veela scratching close to the surface. "My Beautiful One…tell me 'ow…" she asked, while her body undulated across Hermione's, teasing her. Finally, she paused, looking down at the brunette hungrily.

Her blue eyes now black, Fleur demanded, "…'ow I am going to take you? 'Ow I will make you fully mine, and complete you… for ze first time?"

It didn't really feel like a question, to Hermione; more like a statement of fact. Hermione hesitantly offered a rather non-committal hum, unsure.

Hermione started to feel her nerves bubbling up to the surface. For the first time since this moment became so heated, she suddenly felt every bit as inexperienced as she actually was, her previous bravado gone. Perhaps it was the worldliness Fleur seemed to ooze from her very core, or perhaps it was the voracious look in Fleur's eyes, pressing above her, licking her lips. Or, perhaps it was because for the first time Hermione felt like she was about to make love. Make love with the person she loved more than she knew possible. So Hermione trembled.

The Veela's knowing Cerulean blues seem to be considering something. "While I want zis, so very much, 'ermione…if you are uncertain, at all, eet iz imperative we don't take zis step-

Hermione huffed, with Fleur's completely unnecessary chivalry. "Fleur! I love you. I'm completely hopelessly in love with you."

With a sound that was a cross between strangulation and a growl, Fleur shimmied down Hermione's body, licking and nipping along the way. She lavished her Hermione's breasts with kisses and sucks, with twists of her nipples and licks of the underside of those gorgeous pink mounds.

She continued her way down Hermione's body, taking the time to appreciate how much she felt in that moment for the woman she loved.

When she arrived at her destination, she gripped Hermione's thighs from underneath, then with a surprising strength, she pulled the younger witch down the bed and opened her legs, wide, presenting her center to the hungry Veela. Fleur eyes were smoldering. She was fixed on her core, and Hermione watched Fleur's nostrils flare, as she leaned over her, transfixed.

It startled Hermione when Fleur stopped, looking directly up and into her curious eyes, with an intense look.

"My 'ermione…you are everything to me. Without you, zere iz no me. I love you, for today, for tomorrow, and for every day beyond zat, and I alwayz will."

Before Hermione could react to the beautiful sentiment, Fleur plunged forward, affixing her mouth over Hermione's swollen bead. Her tongue darted out, teasing, tormenting; each movement of the talented tongue as it swiped across her clit caused a jolt in her body. But the long, deliberate swipe Fleur made, down to her core….that was the pièce de résistance. It caused Hermione to writhe and buck, yelling out Fleur's name in the candlelit dark. Fleur's tongue circled her opening, rimming the entire circumference, and then pressed in, deep into Hermione's core.

Merlin, she had a long tongue! Hermione noted abstractly.

Then, Hermione lost the ability to think at all, as Fleur took her to such great heights, darting her tongue in and out of her opening, only pausing to lap at her swollen clit with the tip of that skilled muscle.

She felt her climax build like the rolling waves at the beach. When she could stand no more, she simply let it wash over her with a gasp, and called out her name.

"Fleur! Oh, Fleur…" Hermione looked up at her, dazed, with a dopey grin on her face, as the frustrated longing and need that existed, unspoken, between them was finally dissolving.

Never, never had she ever felt anything remotely like that before. She had not even known feeling like that was even possible. As Fleur climbed her way back up her witch, she continued to pepper kisses on Hermione's flushed skin. Rather impatient, however, Hermione reached down for Fleur grabbing her and kissed her with such force and passion in an attempt to convey to her blonde just how close she felt to her in that moment.

"Fleur…I don't…I mean…oh Fluer, I love you. I love you so much. That was…simply… incredible," Hermione rambled. Fleur, in a daze of love smiled at Hermione while she softly stroked her face.

"Ma belle, I love you too, and I hope to hear you scream my name like zat for the rest of our lives," she passionately replied.

Hermione needed to feel her witch, she needed to make Fleur feel an ounce of what she had just felt when Fleur made her feel like they were the only two people in the world. So she took a moment, and with her eyes affixed to her blonde, she rolled them over so she was back on top.

"Fleur, I need to show you how much I love you, I need to feel you, I need to love you," Hermione said shyly. Fleur beamed at her witch, as she moved to kiss her once again.

"Ma belle, I need you to show me too, but I am so…well…aroused, ma belle, because of you, please, just enter me, right now," Fleur instructed.

Hermione needed to hear nothing further, as she attached her lips to Fleur's once again. Kissing her slowly, her tongue exploring the interior of Fleur's gorgeous mouth, she used her right hand to slowly make it's way down Fleur's gloriously naked body. She lightly caressed her breasts, my Gods, how full and beautiful they were. Her hand made it's way down Fleur's stomach, slowly caressing her until she reached Fleur's hips and then ever so slowly, while still kissing Fleur passionately, felt Fleur's light, wet curls. This is it, Hermione thought to herself, I am finally going to make love to her.

Pushing down between Fleur's lips, she began to gently tease her bead. Fleur was wet, so wet with arousal and desire. And it made Hermione feel positively drunk. She was high, high on her witch. As she ran her fingers up and down the length of Fleur, the feelings she had coursing through her were all consuming.

So without much more preamble, she found the core she was seeking, and entered Fleur with two fingers. Slowly she felt Fleur's warm core surround her, and high on the feeling of her witch, continued to drag in and out of Fleur's opening until their mouths broke apart, panting, as Fleur looked deeply into her eyes and came apart moaning Hermione's name.

So satisfied were the witches, entangled in each other, that neither noticed the faint golden light bathing their room.

**TBC.**


	7. The Delacour Estate Annual Ball, Part II

**CHAPTER 7. THE DELACOUR ESTATE FAMILY GALA, PART II**

Following the first orgasm of Hermione’s life, and the first orgasm she had reciprocated with her witch, they held on to one another, grasping at each other as though their lives depended on it. The pure love pouring out of each was overwhelming. It felt pure; it felt positive.  
Taking a moment to think about what just had occurred, Hermione realized that she had just, for the first time, made love. Made love with someone who she loved with her whole heart.  
While she had not been a virgin prior to this evening, looking back the only thing she could call her past experiences with both Ron and Victor, were sex. Black and white, fairly cold, sex. Never had someone kissed her and licked her and loved her where Fleur had. Never had they made her feel an ounce of what she felt with Fleur. Never had she reached orgasm with either one of them. All of her previous misconceptions regarding the act, and what it was supposed to be like when one had sex with someone, she never understood it, on a personal level.  
Until now.  
Now that she knew, she wanted nothing more than _to love_ and _to make love_ with Fleur, for the rest of her life. 

**XOXOXOXOXOXO**

“I am not going to kiss you anymore, dear one.”  
“Oh?” Hermione tried to hide her disappointment.  
“Non. Because…” Fleur licked her lips. “Eef I do, zen I fear we will never make eet to ze ball.” Fleur exhaled. “And I am in trouble, enough, az eet iz, what wiz being absent all day. We are dressed and put back together and we need to go down zere!” Fleur paused, thinking of the cacophony awaiting her. “Oh…My Maman, zut!”  
Hermione laughed, a rich and full laugh, one that made Fleur’s heart soar.  
Both women smiled.  
“Come, ‘ermione, I ‘ave somezing to give you first, before we ‘ead downstairs, maintenant.” She gestured Hermione to come closer, and with trembling hands, the Veela held out the black velvet box.  
“Zis iz for you to wear, tonight.” Hermione caught the brief tremor in Fleur’s normally self-assured voice. With trembling hands, the Beauxbaton opened the velvet box, revealing its contents to her date, causing Hermione to gasp.  
“Oh Gods….Fleur, it’s incredible…I…I can’t…”  
“Yes. Yes, you can, ma belle.” Fleur took the tiara that matched her own out of the box, gently, and set the case down on the dresser. She moved towards Hermione, avoiding her direct gaze, and set to pinning it into Hermione’s stylish coif.  
“Your ‘air iz beautiful, ma belle…I take eet zis is Narcissa’s work?” She chuckled, pinning the tiara in, firmly.  
“Of course.”  
Finishing, she gave a concluding pat on Hermione’s shoulder. “Trutz be known, I like ze ‘crazy hair,’ better, I zink, actually.”  
“Really?” Hermione asked, disbelieving.  
“Really, ma belle.” Fleur insisted, smiling.  
Hermione felt herself falling even more in love with Fleur, in that instant. The blonde’s voice cut through her lovesick delirium, informing her, “Zere is one ozzer zing, but first, look! Eet looks…perfect, on you.”  
Fleur turned Hermione, spinning her to look at her reflection in the mirror. Hermione gasped, taking in her own regal appearance.  
“Wow, that’s quite an accessory….but Fleur. Why am I…?” She gestured towards the tiara. “I mean, I’m not a Delacour patrician, or anything.”  
Fleur’s eyes looked conflicted. “Eet, ah, iz for you, because…” she searched Hermione’s eyes, clearly mulling over what to say. “You are my ma-er, date, ‘ermione. You are ze first one I’ve ever brought, ‘ere… eet iz for you, to wear.”  
Hermione somehow sensed Fleur was not being entirely truthful with her, and she frowned at the Frenchwoman.  
“You’re not being honest, Fleur.” She tried to meet Fleur’s downcast gaze, unsuccessfully. “I didn’t see Narcissa wearing this, and she’s Gaby’s date.” Hermione reasoned.  
“Non! What I said, it iz true…mostly.” Fleur explained, startled. She sighed. “Besides, Narcissa iz not Gaby’s real date, az you know. And eet iz irrelevant, anyway. Ze jewelry box…eet appeared in Maman’s suite, zis morning, wiz your name on ze box. You are supposed to wear it, regardless…”  
Her voice trailed off.  
Hermione’s hand prodded Fleur’s chin upwards, and she offered the guarded blonde a gentle smile, instantly soothing her.  
“Thank you, Fleur.” She said, simply.  
“De rien. You’re velcome.” The Veela smiled back. She took a calming breath. “Ze last zing, is a present, and eet iz from me. All from me.” She reached back into the Velvet box, pulling out a smaller container. Opening the smaller velvet box, she withdrew a ring, adorned simply with a dazzling Blue sapphire solitaire. Placing it on Hermione’s ring finger, the blonde said quietly, “Zis iz to symbolize you are under ze protection of ze Delacour clan,” she said, quietly. “Specifically, under my protection.”  
Hermione arched her eyebrow. “Sapphire? Interesting.”  
Fleur looked at her, curious. “Why?”  
“It is the gem of…fidelity, Fleur. In ancient times, it was used as an…engagement ring, before diamonds became the fad.”  
“My little English scholar.” Fleur chuckled. She gave a peck to her cheek, and held out her hand for Hermione, clearly relieved now that those gifts were given. Still feeling like there was more to the story, Hermione decided to ask, one more time. “Is this an heirloom, too? Where did you get this?”  
Fleur was oddly silent, choking up. Her eyes were wide, as she looked at Hermione.  
Sensing Fleur’s strain, Hermione asked gently, “Fleur, is there anything else you want to discuss, my love, before we head down?”  
“Well, oui, ma belle, it’s just…” Fleur stuttered. As Fleur was about to continue, a startling knock was heard at the door to their room. The witches looked at one another, and then back to the door.  
“Une minute, s’il vous plait!” Fleur answered, as she walked to the door.  
On the other side, an elf appeared. “Miss Delacour, your Maman is requesting you immediately come down to ball. You are quite late and she is in a bit of a dither,” explained the elf.  
“Zank you, we will come down now.” Fleur replied quietly. With that, the elf popped away.  
“Ma belle, yes, zere iz more to zee story, and I promise, I will discuss wiz you …everyzing, tonight. I ‘ad intended for uz to ‘ave more time togezer before ze ball to discuss, but alas, we ‘ad ozzer priorities, non? Please, ma belle,” she held out her hand. “Apres-vous.”  
With a smile and a kiss, the witches held hands and walked down to the ball. 

**XOXOXOXOX**

They were fashionably late, nearly bordering on inappropriately late. Their arrival, as heralded by the ball crier in formal proclamation, was the typically formal decree for such a grand event.  
“The Delacour Veela Dynast, Her Sovereignty, Mlle. Fleur Isabelle Delacour, accompanied by the Sovereign Consort, Mlle. Hermione Jean Granger of Great Britain.”  
Hermione was completely unprepared for what was to follow.  
Hundreds of sets of eyes swiveled around, to take in the famous pair.  
Gasps echoed throughout the hall and staging area.  
The utterances from the guests, regardless of cause, escalated in volume as they crossed through the portico; Hermione felt the stares that wernt even bothering to appear polite in their regard.  
It was hard to discern the actual etiology of the gasps: Appreciation of the twin beauties; The shock of seeing the famous war veteran and member of the Golden Trio on the arm of France’s most eligible bachelorette; The Heir Apparent Fleur Delacour arrival with a date for the first time; or lastly, for the Veela present in the room, The very symbolic placement of the diamond encrusted Delacour tiara upon the foreigner’s head. Regardless of cause, all the stunned gasps issued in that moment were all very similar, and all uniformly loud. In accompaniment, all eyes seemed to be focused, undeniably, on them.  
Hermione felt like a caged animal.  
If her gorgeous date for the ball held similar nerves, she certainly wasn’t showing it. Hermione sighed, and channeled the weeks of training provided by Narcissa and Gaby. This particular part was likely to be the worst; the formal promenade, receiving line, and formal courtesy salutation rendered to the Veela hostess and current sovereign of the Veela clan with hundreds of eyes staring.  
She recalled the previous words of advice from her two coaches:  
“The procession will undoubtedly be the hardest for you, Hermione, what with your active dislike of public acknowledgement and your inherent introvertedness.” Narcissa astutely surmised, “You need to channel your inner thespian, so to speak, and pretend to act the part. While it is a short walk from the reading of your arrival, to traversing the hall to arrive at the center of the ballroom, to render the formal salutation, will be nerve racking. Keep your chin up, like this…”  
Narcissa demonstrated, transforming into the cold-blooded woman from Malfoy Manor, again.  
“….don’t make eye contact if you’re nervous—look at foreheads! A great trick. The curtsey is very specific and it is considered in poor form to improvise. We will practice the salutation, this morning. But I think the most helpful thing for you would be for you to pretend you’re someone else, and act the part. Find your inner Eunice Parkinson, for example.”  
“Meaning, what?” Hermione had asked, frustrated, the 4” heels wearing on her last nerve.  
“She means, you walk wiz a steeck up your derierrere, like Ms. Parkinson!” Gaby clarified. “Comme-ca! Watch me, ‘ermione.”  
Hermione had to admit to herself, Gaby did a pretty bad-ass Pure-Blood imitation, as she applied every bit of training to which the two had subjected her.  
**XOXOXOXOX**  
Fleur’s concern regarding her mother’s anger was deeply overrated, once the ball was underway. There was so much to see and do, so many moving parts, that quite frankly, Fleur had yet to see her mother outside of their initial entrance. Her mother had given her a knowing nod, albeit brief. Her mother seemed rather out of sorts, truthfully; but she was clearly pleased with her choice of dates, much to Hermione’s surprise.  
Frankly, they had yet to connect with anyone that evening, really. They had passed Narcissa once, who looked oddly flushed, due to the swarm of Veela women huddled around her, insisting she was “too attractive not to be a Veela,” with one overly drunk and amorous former classmate of Fleurs’ insisting they do a blood test together. The other member of the Hogwarts’ contingent, Gabrielle Delacour, had been a whirling dervish of activity all evening, and they only spoke with her, twice—the first time to insist she go rescue Narcissa from the aforementioned Veela Beauxbaton alum, and the other time when Gaby had actively started a conga line, much to the Elders’ dismay in attendance. Outside of those brief interactions, they melded to each other like glue, and worked the room not letting anyone cling to them for too long.  
Fleur’s tardy appearance was clearly forgiven, as everyone was seemingly clamoring for her attention. Apollene Delacour, despite her station, seemed regulated to an afterthought this year in favor to the heir apparent. Truthfully, Apollene seemed off her game, which Fleur attributed to her mother’s appearance without her Papa in attendance.  
Regardless of the reason, clearly the attention this year at the Annual Ball, was on Fleur and Hermione. Everyone was seemingly obsessed with getting a piece of the Golden Girl and her newly bonded and devoted Veela. Frankly the overly knowing looks leveled towards them left Fleur on edge, for most of the night, worrying about her mate’s reaction to the attention.

**XOXOXOXO**  
“Let’s go outside, so we can ‘ave a moment of peaze, alone?” Fleur nudged. “Will you ‘ave a drink wiz me?”  
Hermione nodded. “Fine and wonderful! Please grab me one, and I will meet you on the balcony. Provided I can actually find them, I just need to tell Gabs and Narcissa something that I forgot, earlier. “  
“D’accord,” Fleur nodded. “A good point: eef you can find zem!”  
They parted, and Hermione moved quickly, finding her two friends. “Salut, friends and neighbors!”  
“Hi, stranger.” Narcissa smiled, as Gaby squealed in excitement, hugging Hermione with her usual boisterousness.  
She quickly resumed her position as human body shield between Narcissa and Fleur’s classmate.  
“Hi!” Hermione said, a bit breathless after Gaby’s crushing embrace. “I’m only here for a second, but I wanted to mention something to you two, before I forget to mention it, at all!” Hermione leaned in , conspiratorially.  
They looked at her, expectantly, leaning in as well.  
“I have an answer for you two.”  
They looked at Hermione, clearly confused.  
“Your answer, that you both asked me prior…” she said, mysteriously with a sly grin, “…is: neither old men, nor young men; rather, twenty-something female Veela are by far, the best.” With a wink, Hermione darted away to rejoin her date, enjoying the look of realization that crossed her friend’s faces, and the utter shock after that dawning, that followed.  
Good thing she had declined to mention that it was even substantially better when you could taste yourself on their kisses, all evening, as Hermione had done; she didn’t want to _break_ her friends, after all. 

**XOXOXOXOX**

The fresh evening air was invigorating.  
Hermione was having a surprisingly good time at the Ball. She was glad, finally, to be squirrelled away with Fleur, finally, to find closure on their discussion. She was intelligent, obviously, and it was clear by the double entendres and loaded looks that she and Fleur had been receiving, as well as some of the comments made to her independently and to both, jointly, suggested more was at play.  
Plus, she wanted some more of those addictive kisses from her gorgeous blonde.  
It was kind of a unique torture, really, to be looking at Fleur all night, looking so sumptuous, and not being able to act on it. The ease and grace with which she worked the crowd was a thing of marvel. Hermione admired her skills; she moved with an innate grace of someone who had been groomed to rule the world since infancy. Frankly, she was so natural and effortless, it was a thing to behold. She moved in this world, without forgetting Hermione in the least; with Fleur’s patient prompts and mirthful smiles, she was prodded into being somewhat of a socialite herself, without realizing it.  
She was morphing into the natural Yin to Fleur’s Yang, without conscious realization.  
Nonetheless, it was stressful for the shy Englishwoman. Despite being the brightest witch of her era, and a true celebrity for her past exploits, she did need a break. It was amazing what a mood elevator multiple glasses of expensive champagne and sumptuous French date, could be; but she did need introspection in order to recharge, by nature.  
However, standing here in the moonlight, looking at Fleur molded into her dress, her sinewy muscular arms sloping into her perfect shoulders and full breasts that spilled out of her ball gown so perfectly, well…  
Introspection was not exactly what she had on her mind.  
She stared at Fleur’s lips, accented by the moonlight, as they faced each other on the secluded balcony, and Fleur cleared her throat.  
“Ah, ‘ermione, um.”  
“Yes, Fleur?” Hermione responded, her voice huskier than she intended.  
Fleur closed her eyes, and shook her head, as though clearing out cobwebs. Looking downward, and rubbing her eyes, the blonde chocked out, “Ma belle, s’il vous plait…I need you to stop being so damned enticing, ozzerwize I will not be able to be get any coherent speech out, I’m afraid….”  
Hermione responded playfully, “you find me enticing, Fleur?”  
Fleur’s eyes snapped upwards, locking into her brown ones. “You know good and well zat I do, and a whole lot more zan zat…I’m barely ‘anging on ‘ere, I ‘ave been trying so ‘ard to keep the baser part of my nature in check.” Fleur confessed. “The primal part of me wants to simply bend you over, ‘ere on ze balcony, and spread you, and ‘ave my way wiz you, over and over.”  
Hermione throat suddenly was parched. “Uh…um. Really?” She finally, managed.  
Fleur’s eyes were dark. “You know I am Veela.”  
Hermione nodded. “Veela.” She affirmed. “Uh, yes…I am aware, of that...”  
As if snapped back into reality by Veela as her safeword, Fleur’s thoughts cleared. Pressing forward, she said, “Zere iz one last zing I have to tell you, ‘ermione, zat is deeper in meaning. It relates to you, and me, and zis…” she gestured to the ring, Hermione now wore.  
“Yes Fleur…what is it love?”  
Fleur looked at her, finally. Her eyes were full of love, and fear, and so many other emotions that were too complex to mention, simultaneously. Hermione waited, patiently, not rushing the French woman.  
“Hermione….” She began, swallowing.  
As if on cue, a screeching “OhmiGods, is that Fleur Isabelle?” Interrupted their talk. Two handsome men, groomed impeccably, one blonde, and one black haired, rushed over to the pair, encroaching on their space. Despite her irritation, Hermione couldn’t help but to appreciate their aesthetics.  
Fleur sighed. “Bon soir, Armaund.” She nodded, curtly. “Jacques.”  
The two men swooped in, hugging and kissing Fleur, as she looked at Hermione apologetically. Armaund proclaimed, “Oh, but we’re being rude!” He swirled around, grabbing Hermione into their embrace. Stiffly, she couldn’t deny that the pair had some serious charisma.  
Fleur removed herself from the boys. “Eet ‘as been a long time, Armaund.”  
“Too fucking long! How is the Delacour princess doing?”  
Fleur glared at him, playfully, and the black haired man laughed. “How do you fucking think she’s doing, you Dumb Ass? She’s here with the gorgeous Golden Girl!” He said, putting his arm around Hermione.  
“Riiight! That you are….and, nice catch, Fleur.”  
“Zank you.” She said, looking at them both with irritated glances.  
“Uh…while that’s flattering,” Hermione interjected. “Who are you two, exactly?”  
The handsome blonde laughed. “Oh damn! We’re so rude!” With a laugh, he offered, “well, I guess that’s part of the reason I’m the self-professed ‘black sheep of the Delacour dynasty’ I suppose! I’m Armand, Fleur’s cousin, on Apollene’s side. “  
Gesturing towards the black haired male, while still gripping Hermione, he did the introductions. “We all know, you’re Hermione Granger. So, this is my boyfriend, Jacques.”  
“Boyfriend?” Clarified Hermione.  
“That’s right, so don’t get any ideas of switching teams, hot stuff!” Barreling on, completely immune to Fleur’s dirty looks, Armand grinned. “So, I hope we didn’t interrupt anything!”  
“Well actually—“ Fleur began.  
“Oh, good! Because this ball is so typically unbearable, and I’ve been looking for you all night!”

**XOXOXOXOX**

While the boys interruption was certainly untimely, their entertainment value was hard to deny. Their acerbic wit caused Hermione to openly guffaw, more than once, and Fleur’s eyes never left those of her British date, for long, the devoted Veela’s eyes flickering with delight and swooning with love, every time Hermione had a laughing attack.  
“Oh fuck me with a Boggart, would you look at that?” Jacques pointed someone out to Armand.  
“Oh, dear. My eyes can’t unsee that fashion debacle! Now they’re bleeding! Quick, someone call the Golden Trio, fetch me a champagne draught, ici!”  
Hermione gently grabbled a flute off a service platter, and handed it over to the histrionic Veela. “And what, pray tell, required my very important services?” Hermione chuckled.  
“That!” Armand pointed off to their left.  
“What?” Hermione squinted.  
Fleur chuckled. “Pay ‘im no mind, ‘ermione. Armand’s just being a big beetch.”  
He feigned mock hurt. “Fleur, cousin! You cannot deny that Madame D’Antionia is the extraordinary Veela miracle…she iz a wonder of genetic science, actually.”  
Hearing the word “science,” Hermione’s interest was peaked. “What? Why?”  
The two males said in unison, “Ze Veela that actually gets uglier, with age!” They laughed, hysterically.  
Hermione didn’t join in, she merely looked confused, as she cocked her head to Fleur, inquisitively.  
“Zey mean…um. Ah, um…well.” Fleur whispered, quietly, into Hermione’s ear. “Eet iz said …by zome, zat Ze Veela become more…sensual? More attractive? Qu’elle ca chose, comme ca, wiz each pazzing year. Eet iz just urban myth…” She added quickly. “But zat iz ze basis of zeire inappropriate joke.”  
Hermione listened to the explanation intently, suddenly looking up at Fleur, panicked.  
“Fleur, are you sure? Absolutely sure? Because really, Fleur, if you continue to get more attractive than you already are, on an annual basis, oh Gods! I’m going to be dead by the age of forty!”  
Fleur squeezed Hermione’s shoulder, playfully. “You flatter me, ma belle.”  
Hermione drank her flute in one swallow. Her eyes were wide. “No. That was actually a fact. I merely relayed a…fact.”  
Fleur snorted, and began to get “that look” again, the look of wanting to devour Hermione up, in one piece, and Hermione felt her dates desire flick across her body, with unfettered thrall seeking her out. Hermione’s neck begin to get hot, again.  
“Woah…Did it just get ….really, really hot, in here, all of a sudden?” Hermione asked Fleur, as she was beginning to sweat, unexpectedly.  
“Glad you noticed, my English Mimi!” The drunken, boisterous voice of Gabrielle Delacour interrupted their escalating stare-down. “And to answer your question, Yes. Yes, It did suddenly get hot, for I arrived on ze scene, bien sur!”  
The boys made gagging sounds, and Fleur merely laughed at her sister. “Are you ‘aving fun, petite chou?” Fleur inquired.  
“Mais oui!” Gaby waggled her eyebrows.  
“Oh…no.” Hermione said, bracing herself. “Wha’d you do now, squirt?”  
“Well,” she leaned in conspiratorially, “Narcissa bet me zat I could not get ze bloomers off three different witches or wizard, using only charm, conniving, and completely without magic! She wagered I couldn’t complete ze task, witzin ze ‘our…and bring zem back to show ‘er,”  
Fleur openly laughed, cocking her head. “And? “ She asked, amused.  
Gaby smiled a grin, that was surprisingly free of guile. Unzipping her clutch , she leaned over to show her big sister the contents inside.  
Fleur gasped.  
Gaby beamed. “FIVE pairs, Fleur!” She giggled. “Look, I impress even MYSELF, sometimes! Which reminds me…’ave eizzer of you seen Cissy? I don’t want her Slytherin-ing out of ze bet, at ze last minute!”  
Fleur frowned. “Hmm. Curious. Come to zink of eet, I ‘aven’t seen ‘er in awhile. Ze last time I saw ‘er, waz when five of ze Veela coven were surrounding ‘er, trying to get ‘er to sing ze Beauxbaton fight song.”  
“So you don’t know, zen. Well, zat’s very…unhelpful.” Gaby grinned. “Look, go on with your two selves. I can tell you’re practically in ‘eat, ze botz of you! Blaque!”  
Gaby turned, winking at Hermione, and left in a faux- pirouette, marching off in search of her “date”, the healer-slash-lost Veela-slash-purebred, to share her bounty and gloat her victory over Narcissa, just a little bit.

**XOXOXOXOXO**

Fleur and Armand had snuck off to the cellars to go retrieve a few bottles of the Delacour’s Petrus vintage wine for the four of them to imbibe. While gone, Jacques and Hermione fell into a more normal conversation, leaning over an outside balcony railing together. He sensed that she was tiring of the stares, and intuitively led them further outside.  
She gave him a grateful smile, and he smiled back. “Hey, growing up a closeted gay in a hormone-fueled home, one learns to become a good observer.”  
“Hmm. Perhaps.” Hermione agreed. “Here’s an observation: you don’t have a French accent, Jacques.”  
“That’s because I’m not French, Your Goldenness, I’m American.”  
Hermione let out a gasp. “Qu’elle horror!” She said, teasing him, gently.  
He grimaced. “You’re not too far off from the truth, dear.” He sighed, letting the strain of his relationship show through, momentarily. He schooled his expression into a wan smile, and added, “Apollene’s brother is not nearly as… accepting, as Apollene is about non-traditional unions.”  
“I’m sorry to hear that, Jacques.” The English witch added. “In what manner?”  
He rolled his eyes. “Every manner, Hermione.” He sighed. “They blame me, you know, for “turning” Armand to the dark side.” He chuckled. “It’s irrelevant that he’s my first boyfriend, ever…and he himself was the epitome of a slut. They were never going to like me. I, apparently, am the speed bump preventing him from finding his beautiful blonde and decidedly female, Veela mate.” He sighed. “Thus, fucking up Monsieur Delacour’s master plan… “  
“Delacour? Her brother is a Delacour? So, wait... “ Hermione said, confused, trying to solve the family tree. “Delacour…is that…that’s not Apollene’s married name, then? She kept her maiden name?”  
“No. She did take her husbands name, actually.” He answered, wryly.  
Hermione looked completely perplexed, now. “I don’t…understand. I don’t follow?”  
“The brightest witch of her era? Really?” He snorted. “Apollene married ….a Delacour! It’s a very incestuous and secretive bunch…generally, the upper tier Veela marry within the clan, to not dilute the brand.”  
Hermione shuttered. “How very …Tourjours pur, of them, I suppose.”  
“So, you see the lack of enthusiasm for me, Hermione. Let’s recap, shall we? I kept the first-born son from spitting out an heir; While I am a 100% pureblood wizard, Veela don’t give a shit. You’re either Veela, or you’re not. Additionally, I’m not French, and if it could get worse, I’m not even European, I’m American!” He sounded bitter. “But it’s the kid thing, that gets them, the most. His parents. As you’ve probably already deduced, the Veela’s are psychotic about family. Family is everything.”  
“That’s not true, you can still have kids...there are all kinds of spells, these days…”  
He raised his hand up. “Hold it right there, U-Hall Lezibienatronic! Quick reality check: do Armaund and I seem like the paternal types, to you?”  
They both chuckled. “I guess not, I suppose,” Hermione responded truthfully. “But I’ve learned in my travels never to judge a book by its cover.”  
“Well, you are an obvious book, Golden Girl. You…on the other hand….I can practically hear your ovaries screaming out to your one true love, begging for Fleur to give you a tribe of your very own little overachievers.”  
“I’d settle for happy and healthy, actually.”  
He narrowed his eyes, pointing at her, in her face. “Ah hah! Your omission is telling…. you admit to wanting the tribe?”  
Hermione blushed. “Maybe. Someday. I don’t know…this is still, new.”  
He snorted. “Well, adjust quickly, I suggest, your Goldenness. Your Gold Hue is showing, babes!”  
Hermione looked at him, confused, and a little worried. “Jacques, you know…you belong in this world. I can’t imagine the Delacours reacting any better to me! “ She was starting to frown. “I have all of those same issues, you know. I’m not French, I’m not Veela, and I’m not from high society, by any stretch of the imagination. We are the last of the Grangers, and I don’t have a big family. And …well, I’m not from a wizarding family, like you. I’m a muggleborn, for Merlin’s sake!”  
He took her hand. “Hermione, Hermione, Hermione…it’s a totally different circumstance, altogether! You’re comparing apples and oranges, Pet. You’ve have to realize…you’re in, like Flynn. It’s irrelevant what you are or are not: You’ve got the Golden Ticket, already.”  
Hermione was having trouble following all his American colloquial idioms. “How you figure?”  
He rolled his eyes.  
“Well, for starters,“ he began, “Fleur actually brought home someone who is even more famous and well-respected than she is! Hell, you’re the damned Golden Girl, you spaz! Half the world worships you, Hermione!”  
She deflected, but he wasn’t having it.  
“Secondly, Hermione Delacour, nee Granger, (he chucked to himself), you possess in you the currency that is important to the formidable Apollene Delacour: you’re smart as fuck, you keep your nose clean, you’re gorgeous--”  
She interrupted him, passionately.  
“Now I know you’re blowing smoke,“ she huffed. “Gorgeous? Me? Hardly.”  
He touched her wrist.  
“Let me finish. And lastly, you are so freakishly humble, its absolutely endearing. You’re like the only modest superhero I’ve ever met.”  
With that, the most famous muggleborn in recent history blushed, furiously, looking down. “I’m..I’m not a superhero, Jacques. I’m just me. I’m just… Hermione.”  
He leaned over, speaking quietly. “That you may be. But to many, myself included, ‘Just Hermione,’ is just …a superhero.” He smiled warmly. “You’re like Batman, you know? You don’t have any natural or acquired superpowers, and yet, time and time again, you do all these super feats, regardless. You’re amazing, ‘Just Hermione,’ and the Delacours are no fools. They wouldn’t mind taking some of that,” he gestured towards her, “in to all this.” He gestured backwards, making circling movements, in the direction of the grand ballroom.  
“Um, I guess….thank you?”  
Patting her on the hand again, he offered her a final thought. “But all of that crap doesn’t matter, anyway, although I’m sure it’s the icing on the cake for the Delacours. It’s irrelevant, what they think, now. Obviously.”  
“Obviously? Why do you say that? What’s obvious?”  
He gestured around her hair, then tapped the tiara, and then her ring. “Oh, Gee, Gosh, I don’t know, Hermione. Perhaps because of your yellowish hue? Or the Delacour Consort tiara adorning your head?”  
Hermione looked confused, still.  
He gruffed. “You must be joking! Okay, I’ll bite. So, let me ask you this, she who is the somewhat questionably smartest witch of her era, ay? That there…” He pointed to her ring finger, with Fleur’s recent gift ensconced upon it. “…What about your bonding ring, there, on your ring finger, Hermione? Hopefully you noticed that, at least?”  
“What’s a …bonding ring?” She asked, in a small voice.  
His eyes went wide.  
“What? Are you telling me that Fleur didn’t tell you what that was, before she put it on your finger? Has she really not told you? Told you who you are…? What the two of you are? Is this even possible? I can’t fathom this…”  
A sudden chill was palpable in the air.  
“ _Nor do you NEED to…’fathom zis,’_ Monsieur Cargill! Zis iz **not** your business, to fathom, comprendez-vous?” The icy voice of a seething Fleur Delacour put a quick kibosh on the discussion. Fleur and Armaund had returned from their search-and-liberate mission from the wine cellar, apparently arriving at the tail end of their conversation.  
The two guests turned around, looking at the Delacour cousins. Fleur nearly went into a apoplectic fury, when she saw Hermione’s wounded expression.  
“Fleur, what is this he’s talking about? What does this mean? What is a …bonding ring?” Her eyes spoke volumes. “And why didn’t you tell me?”  
Armaund, to Hermione’s surprise, looked just as furious as Fleur did.  
He was livid, as he spoke. “Vous sale idiot! Que pensiez-vous?” Armand spluttered, angrily, glaring at his boyfriend. “Jacques. Come! We are leaving, maintenant! We are going to leave zem alone, so Fleur can un-fuck ze mess you’ve made, here, do you understand?”  
“What did you do, Jacques?” Hermione whispered.  
He looked at her sadly. “I put my foot up my proverbial ass, dear. Good night, it was a pleasure to finally meet you, Hermione.” He leaned over, to give her a kiss on the cheek; before he could actually do so, he felt his body ripped roughly away from Hermione, nearly flying into the railing, and inadvertently yelping in surprise.  
“Fleur!” Hermione gasped.  
Fleur, however, wasn’t looking at her.  
Releasing her death grip on his arm, she spat, “Do not touch her, you bastard!” Fleur let out a heavy breath. “Never touch her, do you understand? Jamais!”  
The fuming Frenchwoman, was lasar-focused on Jacques, who sheepishly met her gaze, clearly nervous.  
He saw so much, in this movement, in her eyes. Her eyes contained all the blonde’s fury, and the worst of her feral nature. Hermione watched the exchange, baffled, and she could have sworn she saw Fleur’s eyes change to from their normal blue color, to a reddish-yellow hue. Hermione honestly didn’t understand what was so egregious of an act, committed by the American. Rather, what she actually saw, to her mind, was Fleur overreacting. Hermione leveled a demand, in the spirit of fairness.  
“Fleur! Apologize to him!”  
Fleur let out a low growl. It was then, surprisingly, that Armaund took his cousin’s side, surprisingly looking notably angry at Jacques, as well. Fleur’s cousin spoke, through gritted teeth. “Fleur will do no such thing, Mademoiselle Granger…she is not the one at fault.”  
Jacques quickly pulled himself back up to a stand, brushing off his sleeves. “No, Hermione, an apology is not needed, here. Really,” he interjected, quickly. “It was my fault. I …I was way out of line, just now. Fleur has every right to be angry with me.”  
Hermione looked between the three relatives, speechless. It was as though she was playing wizard’s chess, without being privy to any of the rules. However, her powers of observation had kept her alive, thus far; she would continue to trust them.  
The Golden Girl merely looked at the three people, blankly. “I disagree. On that note, I think its fair to say, then, I have I have every right to be angry, as well… with Fleur.” Her voice was calm, but her face was not. With finality, she offered the group a polite, “Excuse me, I need some air…” as she left, walking quickly.  
She didn’t once look back at the three people staring at her exit, in shock.  
**TBC**


	8. The Delacour Estate Annual Ball, Part III

Hermione walked, a solitary figure, across the lush grounds bathed in moonlight and soft accent lights.

The Golden Girl guided her melancholy self towards Delacour Pond. Hermione was struggling, trying to reconcile her head with her heart, counterbalancing the disappointment of being dismissed, and not told…things. Things that remained still unknown, oddly enough. Things seemingly known to everyone else, but not shared with her, the one person who should be in the loop.

Hermione hated that feeling…and despite her many successes, she always dwelled on her failures.

Those moments, so formative, that occurred early on at Hogwarts; times when she felt awkward, as a marginalized, 1st year Gryffindor. Tonight sent her right back to those early years. She felt like she had been made an observer, and not a participant, in her own life.

The solitary woman couldn't help but to feel pain, hurt, and anger; she felt like secrets were being kept from her. Important secrets.

Hermione Granger, walking alone alongside Delacour Pond, had once been an idealistic girl who was forced to grow-up, prematurely. She evolved into a combat-tested woman, on the bloody battlefields of a horrifying war. That woman, during those times, had kept herself and her best friends alive on her instincts and intellect. And those honed skills, instinct and intellect, were telling her something was wrong.

She didn't like that feeling. At all.

Hermione grimaced, refusing to cry any further. It was in that still, she heard the faintest of sounds originating somewhere behind her. The Golden Girl's instincts guided her, flaring up in response. She whirled around, casting a wandless, nearly silent, spell.

"Regenerare Virga Hermione!"

She held out her hand, anticipating what was to come. Instantaneously, her palm was beginning to grip the handle of her wand, as it assembled out of thin air, into her spell-casting hand. The spell was much faster than a simple Accio!, and the unique spell rapidly armed the Golden Girl. She immediately went to work. In blinding succession, she fired and dodged, casting a powerful shield charm around herself, while simultaneously sending out multiple stunners and tracing spells to determine the location of and disable whomever was following her.

She glared into the wood line, peering with a veteran's eye.

Getting ready to launch a multi-point Stupify! blindly into the woods where she had localized the noise, she halted her actions, suddenly. Hermione heard a small tired voice, causing her to pause.

"Bravo, 'ermione Granger! I dare zay, using wandless magic to create your own wand out of thin air, well….all I can zay, iz….. zat is some powerful magic! I am impressed. I must know…'ow did you zink of inventing zat spell?"

Hermione kept her kept her wand up, as well as her occulmancy shields, as she scanned the perimeter, ensuring more people weren't in hiding, accompanying the unfamiliar voice.

"Show yourself! Who are you?" Demanded Hermione.

Coming into view, a regal older woman walked towards Hermione. She looked tired, yet elegant. She finally arrived, and stood in front of Hermione, practically indifferent to the wand aimed at her head. The beautiful older woman made a tsk tsking noise, as an amused smile crossed her face.

"Qui suis-je ? Ah, ma Bijou…look wiz your mindz eye, and guess, who I am! For such a bright one, I zink zat you will know, ze answer." The stranger smiled mysteriously.

Hermione fixed on the woman, wand still up and pointed at the stranger, and she regarded the woman, intently. Focusing, Hermione felt a warm sensation fall across her, as though someone had poured hot chocolate down into her mouth on a bitter winter morning. The brunette let out a small, contented sigh.

The Golden Girl's eyes, snapped open, with realization.

"You're… I suspect you're Angelique Delacour." Hermione announced it, with finality, uncertain of how she knew this. "You're Fleur's Grandmother….Apollene's mother, aren't you?"

"Bon!" The older witch said, clearly delighted, clapping her hands. "I am imprezzed wiz your ability to channel your "Mind's Eye"…unusual for a Non-Veela witch, much less a muggleborn one, at zat!""

Hermione tensed, hearing her "muggleborn" reference, and recalling her toujours pur realization regarding the Delacours, earlier that evening. Before she could process what was happening, she felt herself swept up, into an oddly comforting embrace.

"Arretez-vous, Ma tigresse!" Angelique said, with a chuckle, gripping the stiff Gryffindor in a warm embrace. "Zat waz not meant to disrespect mugglekind…I zink zere iz no difference between you and I. I simply meant zat you came from an 11 year deficient, in not being exposed to ze magic of ze world around you, and given ze opportunity to develop your skills, early on." She looked down at Hermione, with a twinkle in her eye, and a genuine smile. "Which iz why, I zink…eet makes you all ze more… Incroyable d'une personne, I zink."

"What?"

"You know vat I mean, Mademoiselle Granger! People take for granted what zey know, what zey grew up wiz. Zey do not realize what a deficit you came from, as you passed them on ze road, n'est-ce pas? But zey forget zat zis all," The regal woman made large, sweeping gestures, "did not come naturally for you, at first…because I bet you made eet look eazy." She looked Hermione directly in the eye, as she continued, voice lowering. "But I know…I feel certain…zat eet wazn't...eazy, for you. Despite ze fact you made eet look such. Ze curse of being so talented, I suppose, oui?"

Hermione let out the tiniest of smiles, and shrugged.

"Come, little one," Grand'Mere Delacour said warmly, straightening up, with Hermione still firmly grasped within her arms. "Walk wiz me. We need to talk."

XOXOXOXOXO

Hermione fell in love, or at least fell into an adoring worship, with the pragmatic and gentle older witch. Angelique Delacour explained, patiently, the history of the Veela, and the Delacours' lineage; she detailed for the curious Gryffindor some of the unique features and characteristics of the Veela with historical background.

Hermione, as the true lover-of-knowledge, absorbed it like a sponge. Some details she already knew through her research or through Fleur's explanations in the past; nonetheless it came alive in the Grand'mere's telling. Hermione felt oddly comfortable with the elder Veela. What she hadn't come across and what she knew little about was the process of the Mating Bond, and after a time, she finally inquired.

"I am sorry zat I – your new Grand'mere - am ze one to tell you zis, and not my 'eadstrong Granddaughter, but I zink you must 'ave come to ze logical conclusion of who you are to Fleur, and who Fleur iz, to you….oui?" She asked, gently.

"I assume…the Veela mated pair?" Hermione said, neutrally, still very upset with Fleur.

The older witch nodded, eyes sad. "I see zat you are very angry witz …my Fleur."

Hermione's jaw clenched. "Yes." She answered, simply.

"You know, eet iz said, zat behind anger, iz eizer a great 'urt, or a great fear. I zink, now, for you…I zink, eet iz 'urt. Would you like to talk about eet, ma bijou? What 'as you so upset?"

Hermione looked at the most gentle eyes, that waited patiently for her to speak.

She couldn't help but notice the laugh lines, etched around this woman's eyes, that were so full of life. She sighed, thinking how beautiful Fleur herself would continue to be, as she aged, if her Grand'mere was any indication. Hermione thought to herself, time to get my Gryffindor on, as she frowned.

Haltingly, Hermione explained. "Well, I felt like….everyone knew, in the room, the symbolism behind this tiara," Hermione pointed towards the stunning jewelry adorning her head, "and this ring." She extended her hand, showing the ring Fleur had given her, earlier. "And I was nothing but ignorant. Fleur didn't explain…."

Grand'Mere Delacour gasped. "Mes étoiles ci-dessus !" Her eyes widened, when taking in Fleur's present, for the first time that evening. "Eet iz…oh my! Eet iz stunning! She must love you, very much, 'ermione."

Hermione frowned, slightly. "Why? Because she gives me expensive jewelry? I think that simply means she has money…that doesn't always mean love and honesty."

Angelique frowned. "Did she not explain to you, ze origionz of zis ring?"

"No!" Hermione shouted, in frustration. "Which is my point! I'm sorry, but everyone is reacting as you are…and I'm left in the dark!" Tears were threatening to appear again. "I'm sorry that I sound like a petulant child, but I don't like feeling so ignorant, so….helpless."

She was embraced in the comforting arms of the older Veela once again, who made soothing noises that calmed the distressed professor, suddenly feeling much less adult in the moment.

"Ze ring, you wear? Eet iz not bought from a jeweler, 'ermione!" Angelique smiled, gently. "Eet iz made by a Veela, fractioning off a small piece of zeir "essence," and forming zis essence into ze solid matter phase. Zat gemstone, on your finger, iz Fleur's "essence", carved out of 'er, for you. Zat iz ze stone you see before you."

Hermione's eyes, went wide.

"Eet iz very, very difficult magic. We are not meant to split our soul apart, az I zink you well know, from your famous travelz wiz your two friends, non?"

Hermione nodded, affirmatively.

"Furtzermore," The older Veela continued, "ze spell can only be performed by ze Veela, eef zey 'ave found zeir true "heart'z desire", zeir destined "mate pair." Ozzerwize, ze ritual killz ze Veela, automatically, while performing eet."

Hermione gasped.

"Ze Veela putz all of zeir 'eart, soul, emotion into ze spell, and let me tell you, eet iz a beetch!" The older woman chuckled. "I could not get out of bed for a full 5 dayz, afterwards!"

Hermione laughed. "Oh, wow…that's ….just. Wow. You Veela are a tough bunch."

"Indeed."

They were silent for a moment, as they walked together around the lake. Hermione's mind was racing, with a thousand questions. She was itching to pull out her quill and take notes, but had the good sense not to do so.

"So, Madame,"

"Non! Call me Grand'Mere, 'ermione. I will not accept anyzing else, from you." Her eyes twinkled.

"O…Okay." She cleared her throat. "Uh, Grand'Mere...uh, so, I understand the how of forging the jewel stone. My obvious question is, what does it symbolize? What does it do? When does the Veela know…you know, know when it's time to make the thing?"

Grand'Mere Delacour laughed, merrily. "Slow down, ma Bijou!" She grinned. "I now understand! Fleur haz mentioned to me, zat you are…'ow you say….a walking Encyclopédie, oui?"

Hermione blushed. "Well, its just that this is just so…interesting! And even if it weren't impacting my life in every way possible for the rest of my days," Hermione gushed, "I would still find it fascinating!" She paused to take a breath. "Did you know, there are no published accounts of any of this? I know, I've looked and researched extensively!" Hermione's eyes had the passionate look they got when she was learning something for the first time.

She older woman cupped Hermione's cheek, gently. "Slow down, there, little one! Breathe!"

Hermione blushed, pausing her assault of questions on the wise older woman.

Angelique's eyes looked merry. "Okay, so zen, let me answer ze first of your questions, s'il vous plait? Eef you would, 'umor an old woman, 'ermione, and let's sit down 'ere, togetzer, for a spell, eef I am expected to lecture on ze entire 'istory of ze Veela."

XOXOXOXOXO

Angelique Delacour over the next hour answered every one of Hermione's questions in an unbelievably patient fashion. She was quite taken with the younger woman, and was proud of Fleur for pairing with such an extraordinary witch…provided she hadn't fucked it all up beyond repair, that is. Although, the wise Veela sensed from Hermione, she hadn't.

Grand'mere Delacour sense Hermione possessed a love that ran just as deeply as Fleur's, which reassured the older woman. She adored her little Fleur, and was not interested in watching her die a horrible death, any time soon.

She explained that they had started the bonding ritual already when their hearts met and recognized one another. They sealed when they made love. Hermione, blushing, acknowledged that it may have been her fault, slightly, that they rushed into that part prematurely. Angelique merely chuckled knowingly, and Hermione was struck by the fact Fleur had a really cool Grandmother.

Grand'mere Delacour explained to Hermione that all that was left for the pair was the formal Veela ceremony. She shared that she would preside over the ceremony much to Hermione's surprise. Finally she emphasized to Hermione that at any point, she could walk away from their union, up until the completion of the ceremony and their exchange of each other's blood. While it would be devistating to the Veela, Hermione could emergere from it, eventually, intact.

The jewel stone was generally forged once the initial bonding was done and the Veela was aware that it was reciprocated. The stone would confer protection, that part from Fleur's telling had been correct. However, Fleur left out the detail that it also served as a talisman to warn other Veela that the recipient was committed, to the Veela mate pair. The Veela that violated that social contract, and disrespected either of the two mates by attempt to woo them together or individually, would burn to ashes on the spot.

"You really are quite a dramatic bunch," Hermione observed.

"You do not know ze 'alf of it, ma Bijou!" Chuckled the Grand'Mere.

The sage woman explained, however, that the moods and emotions of their mate affected them deeply. This was the reason Fleur herself was not out here, doing the actual explanation, that had seemingly been left to Grand'Mere Delacour.

"And," she snorted, "My daughter, Apollene, would 'ave been here, but…" She broke of, in gales of laughter.

"What?" Hermione asked, confused.

"My daughter is not 'erself, ce soir. Leave eet at zat." Grand'Mere Delacour wiped the tears of laughter from here eyes. "Si incroyable! But…I suppose eet makes sense for me to explain 'ow Fleur is feeling, az until recent eventz, I waz the only recent Delacour zat 'ad mated. All ze poetz and writers glamorize ze Veela mate, so much, 'ermione. Zey…'ow you say….embellish?"

Hermione nodded, in understanding.

"And eet iz made to be zis…fantastical zing, az ze o ze Veela mate pairs are raining from ze sky, every month! When, in reality, eet almost nevair 'appens. Eet iz rare... so very rare, actually."

"Wow. How lucky, for you, Grand'Mere Delacour! So then… Who is your mate, then?"

Grand'Mere Delacour's eyes went unexpectedly dark. "She waz amazing. Very much like you, 'ermione. Smart. Tough. Quiet. Bernadette Robilliard….a truly beautiful being."

"Wait…is she…?"

"Oui," Angelique confirmed, sadly. "She iz dead. Murdered."

Hermione's eyes went wide, in disbelief. "What?" Hermione asked, stunned. "How…?"

"Ze first wizarding war, 'ermione." Angelique spoke, with the quiet exhaustion one feels when their reason for living is gone. "She was one of ze most powerful Veela, in history, and she waz killed on ze spot, az if eet waz nozzing at all!"

She looked at Hermione, meaningfully. "She was killed by... He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"What? Why?" Hermione asked, incredulously.

"To buy our neutrality, during ze war. Zat evil man waz a genius. He caused fear, among our ranks, and ensured our complicity." The great Veela was still obviously unhappy about that decision, even now, Hermione realized.

"But…" Hermione measured her words, carefully. "But, I thought, that without your mate, that you, too... would succumb…"

The older witch nodded, sadly. "Yes. Zat iz true. I am 'ere, now, on what zey call "borrowed time", really. I felt I owed it to you…to explain, az frankly, my granddaughter, Fleur, iz one 'ot mess, right now. I suspect she waz intending to give you ze ring, after ze ball, and zen make ze love to you, and seal." Giving Hermione a knowing look, the Veela surmised, "Alas... I zink zose plans were derailed. I zink when ze Golden Girl sets 'er mind to eet, she gets what she wants, oui?"

Hermione blushed, eyes downward.

Grand'mere Delacour chuckled, again. "Az I said. So, zings were done…out of order. My Fleur got lost, in eet all. I 'ope you forgive 'er, soon…as for my daughter, Apollene…." Here again, the older woman broke off, in laughing fits, which Hermione couldn't help but to join in.

"What about Apollene?" Hermione asked, while holding her side, due to splitting from laughing so hard.

The older woman spoke, "It appears…well, she iz not herself zis evening...but now my 'Ermione, I zink it iz time, for you to go rejoin ze party, yes? Perhaps go find that woman of yours, and rescue 'er from what she 'as been foretelling... and I'm quoting, "Ze Eve of Her Death?" oui?"

"Bloody hell, really? The Eve of Her Death? Rubbish! You see? You are all so wildly melodramatic!" Hermione insisted.

The Veela shrugged. "Eh! We are French, 'ermione!" She smiled, as though it explained it all. "Well, I zink zat I will take my leave, now, ma bijou. I 'ear ze little pitter patter of Gabrielle's feet, and I don't want to face 'er jealousy zat I 'ave not spent all evening marveling in ze wonder of Gabrielle Delacour, instead of our little chat!"

Hermione laughed. "Yep. That sounds about right."

The older woman leaned over, hugging the English witch tightly. Whispering in her ear, she said, "My dearest 'ermione…I am so thrilled zat you are joining ze family! Thrilled zat you 'ave made my brilliant Granddaughter, Fleur, finally... whole. Thrilled to know you have guided my little Gabrielle, with the true love only a sister can show." She kissed Hermione's forehead. "I am 'onored to know you. It iz poetic, really, zat the next Delacour bonding would bring into ze family ze great witch zat ended the reign of terror of zat evil wizard, ze one responsible for ending the preceding Delacour bonding. My 'eart is so full, 'ermione…"

Hermione hugged her back, as tightly as she could, tears in her eyes. She could hear Gaby's voice, yelling for her, approaching quickly.

Angelique pulled back from their embrace, looking meaningfully into Hermione's eyes. "I love you already, 'ermione Granger. I will see you at the Bonding Ceremony, soon!"

Hermione nodded, not trusting herself to speak. The regal woman touched her gently. "Au revoir, greatest witch of zis generation!" She said, as she kissed Hermione.

"Yoo-hoo! 'ermione? Are you zere?" Gaby called out, through the brush. "'ermione, ou est vous?" They laughed, as they heard the disgruntled huffs of the youngest Delacour as she stomped closer. "Iz zat you, 'erm—MERDE!"

Angelique apparated away. The great witch left, vanishing into thin air. Hermione smiled to herself, thinking of hot chocolate and the long talk they had just shared, as she turned towards Gabrielle. Hermione took in Gaby's appearance, confused. Gaby's eyes were wide, and her complexion paled immediately, white as a sheet. The young witch looked in the direction where Angelique had apparated from; and Gaby screamed.

"Gaby! What is it?" Hermione called out, startled.

She quickly moved towards the frightened woman, wand at the ready. Before Hermione got to her, unfortunately, Gaby had fainted, dead on the spot.

XOXOXOXOXXOXO

It was only after several intense minutes of resuscitation and a pepper up potion, pulled from her clutch with the extendable charm, that Gaby finally looked up at Hermione, completely terrified, and spoke in a stuttering speech.

The transfiguration professor finally calmed her down, soothing her, and began speaking quietly. "Gaby," she asked, in a deliberately calm manner. "What's going on, with you?"

"Mon Dieu! You….you were talking to ma Grand'Mere, 'ermione!" She gasped.

"Yes."

"My Grandmozzer!" Gaby sputtered.

"Yes, she found me by Delacour pond. She filled in all the blanks, and explained to me all of the mysterious things that went into these gifts, and my bonding with Fleur. She was very wise. I feel so much better now, actually."

Gaby looked at her friend like she was insane.

Hermione gave her a genuine smile. "I love your Grandmother, Gaby! She's just so…calming. So incredible! You're so lucky, you and Fleur, to have a Grandmother like her...one that's so understanding."

Gaby took a measured breath. "Uh..'ermione?" She said, her voice quivering. "My Grand-mere….she, uh…" Gaby looked at Hermione, tearing brimming in her eyes. Gaby swallowed. "Well, she died, 'ermione. She died, in ze first wizarding war."

"What?" Hermione gasped.

"Oui! C'est vrai, I swear! Voldemort killed her mate….and, well, ze Veela cannot survive zat. She died, one month later, 'ermione." Hands trembling, she wrung her hands together. "I, uh... I've never even met my Grand'mere, 'ermione. I've only seen pictures. Taking in Hermione's terrified eyes, Gaby handed back what was left of the Pepper-up potion. "Take zis. I zink you need eet more zan me."

Hermione gulped it down in one swallow. The two sat together, on the ground, without saying a word to the other, lost in their own thoughts.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Gaby turned to the brunette. "So, before all…zat…" she said quietly, "I decided to come find your runaway ass. Ze reason I came, uh, you…you need to come back, 'ermione! Fleur's a mess. I don't know what 'appened, or 'ow you left eet, but...please, 'ermione!"

Hermione was staring off in the distance, silent.

"Please, 'ermione!" Begged Gaby. "Fleur iz….she's scaring me! Even eef you won't come back for Fleur, come back for me, zen!" Gabrielle's eyes looked sad and desperate. "Please. She's my sister, 'ermione! I love 'er, so much...and she sayz today will be ze day she dies!"

Her fear jarred the Golden Girl back to reality. She stood up, unceremoniously, and dusted herself off. She held out her hand to Gaby, who just stared at it.

Hermione arched a brow.

"Well?" Hermione said. "Are you coming? We can't have the death of Fleur Delacour on our hands, now, can we?"

Hermione pulled Gaby up to a stand, and prepared to side-along apparated back to the Delacour mansion. But before they could go, Gaby paused, "'Ermione…I 'ave to ask, before we go back."

"Yes, Gabs?"

"So...My Grand'Mere…what was she like?"

Hermione mulled over how to best answer that. "Well, I'd best describe her like….hmmm. I'd say she reminds me of a toasty hot mug of hot chocolate, on the coldest winter day, Gaby." Hermione explained.

The blonde nodded, in seeming understanding. Appearing satisfied, she held on to Hermione's elbow, and with a Pop! the two Hogwarts professors returned back to Delacour mansion together. The two Hogwarts professors headed in, with the intention of returning back to Hermione's overwrought witch, lost somewhere inside.

XOXOXOXOXOX

Make no mistake, Hermione was mad.

However, she found it impossible to dig in when she saw the absolutely despondent look that was shackled around Fleur's face. She looked utterly devastated, as though she had cried every last tear possible out of her body. When Hermione entered their room in the Delacour estate, she wasn't expecting to see Fleur, crumpled up, on the bed, held together by Apollene.

Fleur's Maman saw her first.

Hermione held her breath, expecting a Molly Weasley-esque rant to reign down upon her head from the Mama Bear. However, Apollene, unlike Molly, could remain objective regarding fault and blame and her own children's role in those matters, and her face remained neutral.

"Bon soir, 'ermione. I'm glad to see you're back."

Fleur's head shot up, staring. Hermione watched the myriad of emotions flow through her expressions…happiness, love; quickly cycling to fear, anger, trepidation, and worry. Her lip quivered, and she buried her head back into her mother's embrace. Hermione couldn't help but notice the large white feathers scattered on the floor around Fleur's vanity.

Apollene, holding Fleur close to her chest, observed Hermione's focus, and explained. "Eet iz Fleur's molt, Hermione. Veela tend to transform in times of…great duress."

"I see. The feathers…." She trailed off, measuring her words, "…are, um, a beautiful luster."

"Zat 'as always been my Fleur. Always the biggest, and showiest. Everyzing on ze grand scale…ze trouble iz…living on ze grand scale, one sometimes forgets ze small details, oui? Unfortunately, sometimes zose are ze most important ones of all."

She gave Fleur a squeeze, before standing up. "I should see to ze guests, now zat you 'ave returned, 'ermione. Please, Fleur, do the courtesy of trying to do a better job explaining…zings."

Hermione debated internally, then finally blurted it out.

"Apollene….Some of it was explained to me, tonight, by…uh…" She looked between the two beautiful Delacour women. "actually, your mother, Apollene."

Fleur's dark rimmed eyes went wide, but Apollene did not looked shocked, in the least. Apollene merely chuckled, instead. "Ah. My mozzer! Hmmph. You see, I waz ze only girl, 'ermione, and well….zey say eet iz 'ard to cut ze umbilical cord, between a Veela mother and 'er daughter. Zat waz ze problem wiz only 'aving one."

"What was?"

"My mozzer does not know when to say when, even in death! C'est la vie. At least wiz me, I 'ave two daughters with which to meddle. Hopefully, you found 'er to be pleasant, I 'ope."

"Wonderful, actually."

"Well, zat iz good for my inarticulate Fleur, zen." She crossed the room, grabbing Hermione in an embrace, and a bis to both cheeks. The older Veela's eyes were dark.

"Bon soir, 'ermione, and be… patient. I will see you in ze morning, provided you 'aven't killed one anozzer." And the majestic Apollene Delacour swept out of the room, leaving the two mates alone, staring at one another.

It did not fail their attention that Apollene had locked them in, after casting several silencing charms, for good measure.

XOXOXOXOX

"You...um. You met ma Grand'mere 'Ermione?" Fleur asked. She just couldn't help herself; she had never met her Grand'mere, and this seemed like a safer place to start, at least.

"Yes Fleur, unbelievably, I did." Hermione stated.

"Vat was she like?" The Veela asked, quietly.

"Oh, Fleur," Hermione began, as she started walking over to the bed where Fleur sat. Fleur had a mess of black mascara running down her face, and her hair tussled up and body wrapped in a deep purple blanket, "She was everything you would hope for a Grandmother to be. She was warm, kind, charming, and beautiful of course. Not only was she able to calm me down, but she had all the answers that I'd been looking for, and had been hoping to get…well, from you, Fleur."

The meaning was not lost on the desolate blonde.

"Ma belle, I am so sorry! Sorry does not even begin to cover how I feel, at zis moment. But ma belle, I realize just how foolish I was to not stop to tell you everyzing sooner." Fleur paused, and licked her lips, trembling slightly. "Eef you would be so kind, ma belle, can I pleaze try to explain, now, as best as I'm able?" She questioned.

"Yes Fleur, please do." Hermione stated plainly. She was mad at Fleur, but seeing her love in such a state, she had to let Fleur at least try to explain.

Fleur began, slowly. "Well, 'ermione, you see, you 'old all of zee power in our relationship. When I realized zat you were my mate, my one true love, ma belle... I was so overcome. I never 'oped, I never zought that I would be zo lucky to find ma mate. I had even married William, knowing that he waz not ze one, but I zought...well, I just did not zink."

She paused, looking at Hermione, intently. "You see, the first time you and I kissed, eet was different. Different zan any'zing I'd ever felt before. I am conzumed by you, ma belle. You are ze first zing I zink of when I wake up every morning. You are zee zing I zink about az I drift off to sleep; I dream of you ma belle, once I do fall asleep. All day long I zink of all the zings I want to do wiz you, I want to share wiz you, show you, and tell to you! I fell head over heels in love with you, zo quickly, 'ermione..."

She paused, eyes casted downwards. "But ma belle, while I knew in my heart zat you were falling for me, too... my head, eet waz full of worry. What eef you could not handle ze idea of being wiz a woman? A Veela? I worried. What if you did not want to settle down just yet? What eef you zought me just a dim-witted blonde who waz once married to William? You see, my 'ead, eet really messed wiz me."

Fleur stopped, took a deep breath, and looked at Hermione before continuing.

She continued on. "So, ma belle, when I say you 'ave all ze power in our relazionship, I mean zat I will never be able to love anyone else, but you. I want to be wiz you for ze rest of my life, ma belle, and I am clear on zis. But what if you did not feel zee same way? So after we parted, I spent time talking wiz ma Maman, and several ozzer Veela elders. While zey 'elped me understand ze concepts, zey did not make my fears go away. If you did not feel ze same, 'ermione, I'd spend my life in desolation, for ze rest of my days. For I will die without you ma belle, az such iz zee nature of ze Veela."

She exchanged a sad smile with Hermione. Taking a calming breath, Fleur admonished, "I don't want you to feel ze pressure to be wiz me out of pity, or obligation,'ermione. I want you to love me, and want me, for me. For us! Zat iz somezing I 'ave no control over. What fear I feel, to know zat I cannot control what will 'appen, for zee rest of ma life..."

"Damn it, Fleur!" Interjected Hermione.

Fleur looked startled, only to see a resolute Hermione nearly shaking, with frustration, next to her. "Fleur! I love you. I am head over heels in love with you! When will you understand, I feel so consumed with you I can barely breathe away from you?"

Hermione calmed herself, before continuing. She met Fleur's eyes, this time, as she spoke. "Fleur, this is the exact same thing you did with the letter! You hide things from me, you bury them and put things into boxes that give me no chance to respond. You take this all on yourself Fleur, and how are we to be a WE, if you don't treat us like an us? Bloody hell woman! If you want this," Hermione pointed back and forth between them, "...then you have to let me in! You have to realize that I don't have the power – we have the power, you silly Veela! We, together, are stronger than either you or I alone, my love. So yes, I'm frustrated with you. I am frankly pissed to hell that you let me walk into that ball adored in YOU without YOU telling me what it meant!"

She paused. "You told the world that I was your mate, before you had the decency to tell me, Fleur."

With that, she stopped and took a deep breath. "But, Fleur, I do understand that you were scared. However, it's not an excuse to keep me in the dark. And I do know you tried to tell me, I understand that as well. But woman…just...bloody hell!" Hermione groaned, the complexities of it all, overwhelming.

Fleur sat still wrapped in her blanket, with a rejected and fearful look on her beautiful face. "Ma belle, oh my love, I am a fool. But I'm a fool who loves you wiz my whole being! And I am zo zorry I put you in zee position I did, because eet waz not fair. Eet waz wrong of me, and you are right, I 'ave to do better for you, my 'Ermione." Fleur blurted out.

Hermione sat quietly for a moment looking between the bed, Fleur, and the opulent ring on her finger. After what felt like hours to Fleur, but was likely only a few long minutes, Hermione began speaking, in measure tones, again.

"You made this? Made this ring, for me?" Hermione asked, pointing to her new jewlrey. "You could have died, Fleur!"

"Oh ma belle, there is nozing more important to me in zee world zan you, 'Ermione. Zis waz my way to show to you, and zee world, my complete love and commitment to ma mate! Eet iz Veela tradition." She smiled, wairly. "Mais oui, eet waz a beetch to make! In fact, eet waz why I waz so late. While my mission did run longer zan expected, I 'ad spent zee past week making zat ring, and 'ealing from ze process. I wanted to present zis to you before ze ball, and tell you that you were my mate. I 'ad wanted to ask eef you felt ze same, ma belle, zat waz my plan. And I should of ensured zat eet 'appened. But when you kissed me, said you wanted me, I just could not help myself." Fleur licked her lips. "Frankly, I 'ad been, well, a complete disaster longing for you, sinze we parted earlier in ze montz, and I could not stop... I'm zo sorry."

Hermione had heard enough. She was still upset, but that did not mean she did not love her Veela with her whole heart.

Hermione brought a finger up to Fleur's lips and pressed it there gently. "Fleur, I love you. I'd be lying if I told you I was still not upset about the position you put us in tonight, Fleur. Regardless, it does not take away from the fact that I love you, just as much as you love me."

Hermione sighed.

"I wish that you had thought about the possibility of us Fleur, and not just the possible rejection of us. I know that you have felt your whole life like you could not trust in your true self, because others saw you for your Veela, and not for you. I know that. But Fleur, you have to know that I see you for you, who you are as a woman, as a Veela, as a lover and as my partner, Fleur. And I want you to know that I have faith in you, Fleur. I want to be with forever, as well, my love."

"'ow are you so courageous, so brave, my 'Ermione?" Fleur asked, awestruck by the woman in front of her.

"Fleur, I learned that if I let others define me, or prevent me from getting what I wanted... or from acting on what I knew was right, I would not come out of the war the way I needed to. I learned that I had to trust myself and trust my intellect to get me through. And it's terrifying, Fleur, and I still get overcome with fear and anxiety from all we went through back then. I'm fearful Fleur, just as much as you…I promise. But the truly courageous soul is the one who is fearful, but plunges on, anyway. They go forward, despite that fear." Hermione took her hands, gently, urging, "Fleur, I need you to be courageous. Not fearless. Courageous…have the courage enough to trust in me, for me, Fleur. Because now? Now, it's us against the world."

The look of joy and relief that washed over Fleur's face was palpable. Her shoulders relaxed, her eyes became brighter, and she become, well, more…. Fleur. She sighed, in utter relief.

Finally, at long last, the blonde flung herself at Hermione, and wrapped her arms tightly around her witch with the intention of never letting her go.

XOXOXOXOXOXOX

"OhGodOhGodOhGod….Don't. Stop. That! That, Fleur!" Hermione moaned, ordering through gritted teeth. "Fucking bloody hell, to fucking hell…Do not stop that! That! What you're doing, right now…."

Hovering above her, sweat running down her forehead, her lustrous blonde hair now matted to her head, Fleur barked back, "I've no intention of stopping," she panted, "…this! Not. Stopping. Fucking you, comme ca, 'ermione…."

Hermione threw her head back, arching her back, almost completely off the bed, as another deep thrust of the Veela's talented fingers propelled her body upwards. In response to the hands deep inside her core, Hermione's own hands were reaching, grabbing, trying to find something stationary to hold and fix on, while she teetered off the planet. She had been intermittently grabbing fistfuls of Fleur's hair, or grabbing and wadding up the already sodden sheets, finally deciding on gripping Fleur's own flesh, digging her nails into Fleur's back, again. Fleur merely grimaced, saying nothing, although she was sure Hermione had pierced her skin, once more. A ridge of half crescents in various stages of bleeding already adorned Fleur's back like a trail map from their activities this evening.

It seems Apollene was positively prescient in warding off their room complete with multiple silencing charms.

The Veela ignored the searing pain in her back, capable of feeling one thing only. "You feel…so fucking good! So good, around my fingers, 'ermione…" The Veela exhaled. "Merde! I need you to come for me, again…"

With an agonized groan, Hermione crested towards her pinnacle, under the ministrations of her determined lover as though obliging her request.

Their movements became more furious and disorganized. The moonlight saturating the room outlined their naked bodies, as they slid, back and forth, across the surface of the other's body. The expressions on their faces, if one were to look, would be wholly unfamilar to any of their family or friends. These women, soaked in each others fluids, were unrecognizable... even to themselves. Never had Hermione felt so wanton, so needy; never had Fleur been so unrepentantly shameless in her desires. Hermione spread her legs, wider, as her core arched up, rocking with the demanding pace Fleur's hands were setting.

"Fleur! Oh, Merlin, I don't know if I can….this is going to be so…."

"Do eet." Growled Fleur, through gritted teeth.

"…so much, Fleur…"

"Do eet, 'ermione," demanded Fleur. "Do eet! Come, for me."

"Ohhhh, my Gods…Fleur...Fuck!"

Fleur set a maddening pace, both arms pistoning into her mate, with a light sheen of sweat covering her shoulders. Her eyes were wild and she was panting as though she was the one on the precipice of climaxing. Hell, Fleur was fairly certain she was capable of a climax, merely watching her woman unravel before her eyes, for the third time this evening.

"Yes! Yes! Ohhh, Fleur…."

Fleur had wedged various parts of two sets of fingers into Hermione, as a result of the brunette's earlier pleas for more, Fleur! and deeper, Fleur! in her imploring way. The sound of Hermione's ragged breaths, with her licentious begging for sweet release, caused the Veela to curl the tips of her fingers on her right hand in a "come hither" motion, deep inside Hermione. The brunette nearly bucked her off the bed as a result.

Hermione let out a loud gasp of pleasure.

As the intuitive Veela felt that spongy rough part of her mate, a warm sensation erupted in her own core. She dug her fingers through that patch, watching with delight as her mate unraveled below her. Her mate was keening and moaning; the brunette let out a cry, and demanded Fleur finish her off. Mercilessly, Fleur dug the heel of her hand into Hermione's clit, grinding small circles into the swollen bulb. Fleur grunted, continuing her demanding thrusts with her lower hand, in concert. Hermione survived only a few further moans until, with a final desperate high-pitched cry, the brunette stilled, and was out.

Cold.

Fleur withdrew her fingers, slowly, from the dripping mess of her mate; the motion caused Hermione's entrance to clench, as though anticipating, even in her unconscious state. Fleur brought her fingers, saturated with the sweetness of her Hermione, to her own lips. Opening her mouth, she savored the taste. She glanced at her mate, who was now rendered unconscious underneath Fleur's naked, and very sweaty, body.

Still topping her undone witch, Fleur finished licking her fingers. Deep in contemplation, Fleur finally allowed a fierce smile to creep across her face, as she let out a very contented purr from her Veela within. The blonde then curled downwards, tucking herself into her mate, as she fell quickly into a very resolved and contented sleep.

TBC.


	9. The Morning After

**Chapter 9: The Morning After**

The morning sun peered through the windows of the room in which two very naked, very beautiful women lay, entangled in one another. The early morning sun roused the light-sleeping brunette.  
Slowly Hermione began to wake, contemplating, _Where am I again?_  
She realized the answer to her own question, by touch and by smell; Where she was, in fact, was wrapped around the incredibly sexy body of her witch.  
Her mate.  
Smiling, she slumped back down again, pressing her breasts against the soft and naked back of Fleur. The brunette's left arm was shoved under her pillow, with the right wrapped tightly around her Veela, their fingers entwined. As she became more aware of their positions, she realized Fleur's delectable ass was burrowed into her core; their legs blended together; their entire bodies entangled, under the sheet.  
With a sigh of contentment, Hermione knew this is how she wanted to wake up every single day.  
Every day.  
For the rest of her life.  
Wriggling her hand free from Fleur's, she began to lightly trace her fingers up and down Fleur's side. Deliberately, she slowly trailed downward, gently cupping Fleur's perfect behind. Merlin this woman is perfect, she smiled to herself. She trailed her fingers slowly back upwards, enjoying the feeling of Fleur's incredibly silky skin and traced around to Fleur's stomach. She felt like fucking heaven, to the Hogwart's professor, like concentrated perfection , and joy, and sexuality, to Hermione. The Veela was the softest thing she had ever felt, and laying together, quietly in the still of the morning, the sight of her naked form was... bliss.  
She rolled over, looking out of the window in order to estimate what time it might be; however, her body immediately screamed in protest. They had gone rounds and rounds of rather aggressive love-making the evening prior, and her body felt every moment of it.  
And yet... she still had not had enough of Fleur.  
Now that they had finally bonded, she felt like Fleur was an extension of her. They were not two, but one. The sex between them? Bloody hell! Hermione grinned to herself, musing, So...this was what all the fuss was about! She finally got the fuss. And what a fuss it was! Because, Hermione realized, when one made love, had sex, and fucked-all at the same time - yes, a fuss should be indeed be made.  
Hermione hovered over Fleur's still sleeping form. Gently, she pulled her, guiding the blonde onto her back, allowing Hermione to see the perfection of her mate, lying below her. Fleur made a small noise, tussling a bit; however, she stilled back into blissful sleep quickly. It was then, in that moment of stillness, that Hermione lowered her mouth to Fleur's pert and perfect breast.  
She is so fucking hot, Gods! I need to taste her... thought Hermione.  
Ever so gently, she began to lick around Fleur's pink nipple. Delicalitely tracing the edges, she circled twice, then encased Fleur's pink nipple with her mouth. She began to suck, slowly, while swirling her tongue. She had every intention of going slowly, wanting to allow Fleur to gently awake to the feelings coursing through her body. Slow, however, was proving difficult. Such intense desire started coursing through Hermione, stealing all rationale thought from her mind.  
Continuing with a singular focus, Hermione's mouth began pulsing around Fleur's other breast, while her right hand made it's way down to Fleur's thighs. She slowly urged her legs apart.  
Hermione tried to quiet the moans threatening to spill out of her mouth, as she discovered her Veela was wet...already aroused.  
Fleur's hand flew to Hermione's head, as the blonde began to awake more fully. With a gasp, Fleur breathily moaned, "'ermione…ma belle! Ohhhh ...oui! Oui! _Your mouth_ …please, ma belle... _don't stop_."  
Stop... she would not. She would never. Hermione could not get enough of Fleur. Her mouth kept its focus, while her fingers began weaving their way through Fleur's lips, exploring, finding her core, with a pool of moisture quickly saturating the tips of her fingers. Emboldened, Hermione allowed her fingers to glide through Fleur's arousal, using the Veela's own lubrication to delve further through Fleur's silky folds.  
As these new sensations coursed through Fleur, she cried out, "Merlin!" The Veela was breathing heavily, and finally growled, "Do. Not. Stop!"  
Fleur released another gasp, and began cursing rapidly in French.  
 _Fuck,_ thought Hermione. _That sounded sexy!_  
Hermione singlemindedly maintained her focus through her haze of arousal. Using her pointer and middle finger, she entered Fleur. Her digits curving upward, Hermione began swirling her fingers in the warm core of her mate. Slowly she began to drag out, and thrust back in, building a pace that matched the sucking and twirling of her tongue as it savored Fleur's breast.  
She continued thrusting in and out of her witch, relishing in the moans coming from Fleur's mouth. As Fleur's moans grew more frequent and louder, the brunette felt Fleur's core begin to tighten around her fingers. On Hermione's final few thrusts, her palm hit Fleur's clit, causing the blonde to release, gloriously, all over Hermione's hand.  
"Merde, ma belle, zat was a way I'd like to wake up, for zee rest of our lives!" Fleur whispered. She composed her sated expression, focusing on the Englishwoman above her. Determined, Fleur summoned, "Venir ici, you gorgeous woman!"  
She clutched at Hermione, pulling her fully flush, on top of her. Reaching upward to kiss her mate, the Veela paused for a moment, and smiled. _Really_ smiled. "Iz zis for real, ma belle? Or iz zis a dream? Because I've never felt happier, more content, or more complete, ever! Not een my entire life! Please tell me zis iz real," she asked Hermione, earnestly.  
With a smile that reached her eyes, Hermione responded carefully, "Beautiful one, this is real. And I feel the exact same way! I cannot believe how lucky we are, to be together. I am so hopelessly in love with you, Fleur; you make me weak in the knees, you fill me with desire, you just..." She swallowed, overwhelmed. "Fleur, I find you the most sexy, stunning, interesting…oh Fleur, I can't believe you are mine…" she responded. Looking off to the window, Hermione continued, "Maybe you are my prize for all the hell I went through in the war, perhaps? Are you my prize, Fleur? Because, really, you seem like it... I mean, look at you, you gorgeous creature!" she said gazing up and down Fleur's body with unabashed lust.  
Then, she turned back to Fleur's eyes and giggled."I am sooooo Fleur-sexual…"  
With that, Fleur grabbed Hermione's ass, and gave it a swat. "You cheeky witch, you! Kiss me, now!" The Frenchwoman's eyes turning dark, she hissed, "Zen, eet's my turn to ravish you…"  
 **XOXOXOXOXOXO**  
As the morning crept on, the witches stayed in bed: talking, laughing, kissing, and enjoying every last second they had together. They were mated, and it felt indescribably wonderful.  
"Ma belle. We should talk zome more, about zee conversation you 'ad wiz my Grand'mere, non? I realize she did zee job I was to do, and for zat I will forever regret, but be grateful to her. I mean, I often find myself turning to 'er when I need 'elp, but I never zought zat she would appear…Mon Dieu! Eets incredible!" Fleur shook her head in disbelief, but not taken aback one bit by the appearance of her beloved Grand'Mere. There were some advantages of growing up magical, including a willing suspension of disbelief whenever something improbable appeared, out of the blue. "Do you 'ave anyzing you would like to discuss? Any furzzer questions I need to answer?" Fleur asked gently.  
"Love, I'm completely sure that we are mates, that is clear. No worries. And now I understand that we have, well, bonded. But what of the traditions associated with such a momentious occasion? Your Grand'mere spoke of a bonding ceremony? What does that mean and how does that effect what we have?" Hermione questioned.  
Fleur blushed, realizing what a disservice she had indeed done to her mate, who not only did not grow up as a Veela, but did not even grow up as a magical witch!  
Collecting her thoughts, Fleur began. "Well, ze Bonding Ceremony...well, eet iz like a wedding ceremony, but a tradition observed only by ze the Veela. Only Veela can be present and eets full of ancient magic. I zink it best for us to discuss with Maman, and maybe even zee Veela elders, to fully understand what will happen during zee ceremony," she explained.  
"Alright, yes... I'd like to know everything," the always-curious Hermione responded. "So…we will be bonded for life then, Fleur?"  
"If zat iz what you want, ma belle, zen yes. And it is absolutely what I want, if you will 'ave me…" she said carefully.  
"Yes! Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes." Hermione exclaimed. Of course it's what she wanted. Of course!  
They kissed, deeply, and held each other tightly for quite some time before Fleur knew she could not keep Hermione in bed too much longer. For without tea soon, her witch, well…she just knew.  
"Ma belle, could I interest you in zome tea and breakfast, out on zee terrace? I realize we could stay 'ere, naked, in bed, all day... which I would like too do," she smiled with a lazy grin. "...But zome food may do us good for when we return." She grinned and winked.  
Hermione nodded, grudgingly.  
Continuing on, Fleur rationalized, "Plus, I'd like to see my Maman, 'Ermione. Well, I'd very much like 'er too see you, actually. Last night waz such a whirlwind and eets time you met my Maman, properly. Would zat be alright?"  
"While I'd positively love to tie you to the bed posts and have my way with you all day," grinned Hermione, suddenly capable of saying things she never dreamed voicing out loud before, "I'd love some tea, and I'd love to properly meet your Maman."  
With a peck to Hermione's lips, Fleur smiled and hopped up to open the windows. With the sun streaming in, Hermione could, for the first time, truly appreciate Fleur's naked form. This woman was perfection to her, and how lucky she felt in that moment was not lost on the brunette.  
The witches took some time to shower, together, in order to get clean. After casting several spells drying their hair, making their bed and covering up some of the more visible marks that adored their bodies, they finally dressed. Once satisified, they headed downstairs. At this point, Hermione realized she could not find her "blasted bag", resorting to wearing some of Fleur's clothes as a result. Before leaving the room, Fleur grabbed Hermione one last time, pressing her body to Hermione's, fully together. The Veela leaned in, stealing a smoldering kiss.  
"I love you, ma belle," she whispered, looking deeply into Hermione's brown eyes.  
 **XOXOXOXOXO**  
Sitting on the balcony, the witches came across a rather sullen looking Gabrielle, wearing all black, the hood of her sweatshirt up over her head and large sunglasses covering her eyes.  
"Bonjour petite sœur! Qu'est-ce que vous a l'air si sombre aujourd'hui?" Fleur asked, attempting to uncover what had Gaby looking so down.  
"Soeur! You must be kidding me. I look magnifique! I am zee model of perfection!" Then, grousing as she continued, Gaby muttered, "Et aussi...zut alors... I can't find any bloody 'angover potions! Zis ees _bullshit!_ What kind of wizarding 'ousehold, post gala, runs out of zee 'angover potion?" Gaby inquired, looking quite pissed.  
Hermione raised her eyebrows, at Gaby's empassioned reasoning. Fleur and Hermione could not help themselves, they chuckled as they pulled up two chairs, dragging them right next to each other so they did not have to stop touching. While Fleur began to make tea for herself and Hermione, Hermione questioned Gaby.  
"I swear, we packed some in our bag, but I can't find it anywhere Gabs! Did you have it in your room?"  
"Non, GG," she replied tersely. "And don't ask! Fuck eet to 'ell, I don't 'ave zee blasted, laid comme un pou, bag, eizzer, so don't ask!"  
Fleur swatted her hungover sister, good-naturidly. "Be nice to my meuf!" Attempting to be the voice of reason, Fleur suggested they all have a cuppa and some pastry first and then hopefully Maman or Cissy would join them and they could locate the bag later. She was sure Maman would know where the handover potions were stashed.  
"Alors," Gaby started, "you 'ave bonded zen, my loves? Ze glow surrounding you two iz zo strong, I never zought I'd see such a zing…itz pretty beautiful on you two, actually. Although…" she paused, "Eetz a little too bright for my tastes, zis morning."  
The witches smiled, touched by Gaby's sweet words, even if she looked rather…ridiculous.  
Gaby pushed her sunglasses lower on the bridge of her nose, staring at Fleur with bloodshot eyes over the top of them. "I vil say, Fleur, 'ermione does 'ave one 'ell of a sexy….inseam."  
Hermione spit out her water, mid drink.  
Gaby waggled her eyebrows. "I swore zat if you were any later to see ball, Fleur dear, I waz going to take a taste of zat delicious cherry pie, comprendez-vous? Waz eet az tasty az eet looked?"  
Fleur rolled up her napkin and was now just openly swatting Gaby, on her forehead, to her squeaking indignations of "merde!" and "tut!" But then, the older Veela leaned over, whispering, "So…eet was even better, Gabrielle…"  
"Soir la melieure!"  
Hermione scowled, taking in the little tete a tet . "Yoo-hoo! Right here, still. I am actually, in fact, still sitting adjacent to you two perverts!"  
Gaby hissed, "Does she talky-talk a lot, in ze bed?"  
A lavicious grin slid across her big sister's face. "Well, I wouldn't call eet talking, exactly…" Gaby squealed, with delight, pinching Fleur. "….but she does communicate, oui." Fleur concluded.  
A well-aimed ice cube hit Fleur, richocheting off her forehead, hitting Gaby directly in the center of her eyes. "Damn," Hermione mused. "Maybe I should rethink Quidditch, after all. My aim is better than I thought!"  
The two Veela made a noise that was awfully similar to hissing. Hermione did something very non-Hermione-esque, in that she made a pouty lower lip and looked at Fleur. Immediately Fleur acquiesced, grabbing her mate's hand again, flanking her.  
"Je suis desolee, my pretty lady….forgive me, for ze teasing?" She rubbed her nose against Hermione's, and large grins slid onto both faces.  
"Vomi!" Squealed Gaby, as she spelled up the sun shade, miming retching gestures.  
"Arretez-vous, Gabrielle!" Protested Fleur. "My 'ermione likes ze sun, for ze morning meal."  
"Non." Replied Gaby, petulantly. "Ze sun does not like moi, for ze morning meal." She grumbled, as she pushed her sunglasses back on her face.  
Hermione placed a calming hand on Fleur's forearm. "Fleur, its fine. Really. Gaby is obviously…not in her top form."  
A small huff was heard at the table. "GG, I am always in my top form!" contradicted Gaby. "Merely...well, just intolerant of ze unnecessary bright light at ze moment. Between ze obnoxious sun and you two blowing fools, I feel like I am being interrogated!"  
Hermione chuckled, but Fleur merely scowled. As it became increasing clear breakfast would not be a relaxing nor restorative affair this morning, as the two sisters continued to bicker playfully, Hermione suggested they go in search of a restorative draught.  
"Worst case scenario," suggested Hermione, "we can go wake up Narcissa's arse and have her brew a fresh one!"  
"C'est un bonne idea, 'ermione! I 'ave 'ad about all I can take of ze antics of my suffering sister!" Proclaimed Fleur, dramatically. She waved her hand in the air, like a drum major, and demanded the other two follow her.  
"We will go find Maman…or Cissy…or a bloody 'ouse elf, who can stop ze madness! I would like to bask in the glow of my gloriously sexy mate and all I can zink about iz your misery tu petite crabe! "  
Before Gaby could escalate the commentary, Hermione calmly suggested, "how about we start with your mother, ladies? I'm sure a woman as resourceful as Apollene has multiple healing draughts tucked away."  
As Hermione and Fleur had yet to stop touching, at least some part of their body to the other, and had no intention of stopping or being away from one another for a second, their hands entangled as they stood, ready to go on a mission to calm the littlest blonde.  
"Merde! Maintenant!" ordered Fleur.  
The three witches, one grumbling, the other two chuckling, began their search as they made their way through the Delacour estate. They started their search in the library where they knew their Maman liked to have her morning tea, but it was empty. Next they searched the living rooms, and even the indoor pool thinking maybe their Maman wanted a quick swim before the day began. Both were also... empty.  
Eventually they made their way to the master wing of the estate and found their Maman's door still closed. Without a second thought, the sisters barged in, finding the entry to Apollene's suite littered with clothing.  
Unusual, for sure...  
As they continued on, Fleur called out to her Maman, "Maman! Your littlest one iz being quite insupportable, zis morning!"  
What the three witches came upon next was something they were quite sure they would never be able to unsee. In the middle of Apollene's enormous four-poster king size bed, was their Maman... naked, on her back, her head thrown back in ecstasy. Her legs spread wde, her breasts heaving, as her body shook. On top of their Maman, was a beautiful blonde…WOMAN…presently straddling her legs! The blonde's hand was buried deep inside Apollene's center, her generous breasts pendulously hanging above Apollene, with sweat-glistened skin, as she labored, thrusting hard. In and out of... Apollene's center. Apollene moaned, wantonily, clearly relishing every thrust. As she did, the blonde threw her golden hair over her shoulder, revealing her identity to the intruders.  
Narcissa!  
 _They had walked in on Narcissa_... making furious, unrepentant, and frenetic love... to their mother! The sisters, both dumbfounded and shocked into utter silence, saying nothing. Their blue eyes were wide with surprise, and their bodies were unable to move or make a sound. All they could do was stand, immobilized, simply staring at the enthusiastic love-making happening less than 10 feet away from them!  
It's not like Gaby haden't happened upon her mother in various states of undress before; but never with a woman! And not like this – so obviously covered in sex, dripping with evidence of her lust. And never with her beloved Narcissa.  
Hermione, also in a considerable state of shocked at the scene before them, blurted out, rather loudly and ineloquently, "Ummmmm…"  
It had been clear the women's focus had been solely on each other and they had not noticed the entrance of the three younger witches. After Hermione's inelegant blurted-out loud noise, both heads snapped up and to their right. A look of shock crossed Apollene's face as her mouth fell.  
Narcissa took one look at the woman beneath her and back to the ladies, stating confidently, "Good morning loves, if you would please excuse us, we will be happy to come join you on the balcony in a short while. As you can see, we are currently…indisposed."  
Their mouths still hung open in apparant lockjaw.  
"Fous le camp!" Shouted Apollene, more definitively. "Out! Aller maintenant plus petits!"  
 **XOXOXOXOXO,**  
The witches said nothing as they slowly made their way back down to the balcony, a word not spoken between them. They sat in silence for a considerable amount of time.  
Gaby, now thankfully downing a healing draught provided by a house elf, stated rather surely, "Well, I guess she iz a cactus no more zen, non?"  
Hermione chuckled, as Fleur shot a look between the two.  
Gaby frowned. "Well, 'ow pathetic iz zis? I'm zee only one in zee family that did not get any last night, and I am clearly ze 'ottest of zee bunch! **Bullshit** , again!"  
Hermione smiled. "I seem to recall a clutch full of contraband, Gabs. Whatever happened with the five pairs of panties, mate?" Hermione questioned.  
Gabrielle scoffed. "Eet does not count as zee sex, eef I did not get off, 'Ermione! Non?"  
The two professors exchanged a laugh, while Fleur looked out to the manor yard, quietly reflective, and holding Hermione's hand. She took a drink of her latte, and absentmindedly traced circles on the back of Hermione's hand, saying nothing. Gaby and Hermione compared notes on their observations from the previous evening, skirting the elephant in the room. Finally, the three were joined by the two previously indisposed blondes, looking very put together. As they glided across the balcony, the three younger women couldn't help but notice the two were a truly majestic, practically regal, pair.  
Both women seemed in their prime, with matching platinum hair, upswept in a bun and French twist, respectively. Although Narcissca was the slightly curvier of the pair, they both had undeniably strong, lithe bodies appearing far younger than their fifty-something years. One would never guess the travails both had endured in their lives, as they seemed untouched and nearly flawless. Put together as such, it seemed obvious, really; nonetheless, the two Delacour girls seemed shell-shocked. Hermione frowned. She couldn't understand why the two daughters were being so priggish. After all, they constantly reminded her they were sexual beings, and both clearly had an affinity for the ladies, which they attributed to their Veela nature. She racked her brain as to this conundrum, confused. She reasoned it was most likely attributable to the fact Apollene's bed partner was Narcissa Black, their Narcissa, most of all. A trace rosy flush across their cheeks were the only telltale signs that they had been engaged in such vigorous athletic activities prior to breakfast; otherwise, they looked impeccable.  
"Good morning, ladies." Narcissa said, calmly, although Hermione noticed a flash of concern in her eyes as she attempted to project perfection. She leaned down and gave Hermione a brief kiss on the cheek and a smile.  
"Bonjoir, mes amis." Greeted Apollene, who turned and was giving rapid fire orders for breakfast to the head elf. Pierre, the family's longstanding head elf, was nodding, furiously. Gaby and Hermione both noticed he was not making eye contact, surmising he must have been an unwitting recipient of the same visual they had all shared earlier, as well.  
Apollene placed a light hand on Narcissa forearm, to get her attention. "S'il vous plait, Cissa, would you like one sugar, or two, in your coffee zis morning?" The two exchanged a knowing look.  
Narcissa offered, "Hmmm. Surprise me."  
Apollene let out an evil grin, and shot off a few more orders in rapid fire French to the house elf. "Zank you, Pierre. Zat will be all, ca suffit."  
The younger witches continued to just stare in silence, as they watched Apollene pull out a chair for Narcissa and immediately sat next to her, holding her hand. Once they were seated, Apollene turned to Hermione.  
"Bonjour 'Ermione, I am zorry we did not have a chance to speak properly last night, but I am thrilled to see zat you and my Fleur appear to have worked through your...challenges?"  
Hermione paused for a moment and then smiled, "Bonjour Madame Delacour. Thank you for having me to your home, the ball last night was quite magnificent. Thank you for helping Fleur and I come back together last night, and yes, we are," with this, she paused, and turned to Fleur, smiling from ear to ear, and then back again to Apollene, "we are so very happy. Fleur makes me happier than I ever thought was possible! And while, quite honestly, I am still hurt by how I came to learn I was her mate, I understand her, and love her unconditionally Madame," she finished quietly.  
With that, Apollene stood and glided over to Hermione. Hermione rose from her chair, slowly releasing Fleur's hand to meet Apollene, who pulled her into a tight hug. "Welcome to the family belle petite."  
Embraced so warmly by her mate's Maman was such a powerful feeling. She felt safe and loved, sitting here on the balcony with her witch and her family. Overcome, a single tear slid down Hermione's face. Glancing down at Fleur, Hermione noticed, she too, was overcome in this moment, tears brimming in her eyes as well.  
"Alright, alright you two! Arretez-vous! I can only take zo much in one day!" huffed the black clad little blonde, with a smile on her face. "Itz time to get down to bizness. What zee utter 'ell iz going on, Maman? Cissy? Zomeone better start explaining, tout suite!" she demanded, with a glare in the direction of the two older blondes.  
"Gabrielle," Narcissa remarked sternly, "a lady does not kiss and tell."  
Gaby grumpfed. "Good zing zere are no ladies 'ere, zen."  
Apollene kissed Hermione again, and looked Gaby in the eye. "Gabrielle Delacour, your manners, dear. Zis day should be about your sister, and 'ermione. Cissa and I…"  
 _"Cissa?_ " Fleur spoke up, a wry smile on her face. Turning and giving Narcissa a sidelong wink, Fleur teased, "Eet's 'Cissa,' nowadays?"  
Narcissa looked back at Fleur, and deadpanned, "Only if we have sex, darling."  
Fleur chocked on her coffee, laughing. Gaby's mouth dropped open.  
Narcissa blithely replied, "And quite frankly, one Delacour is all this lady can handle! So, Fleur, for now, 'Narcissa' or 'Cissy' is still fine. And for you, Professeor," she said, eyeing Gabrielle, "you and I may have to go back to 'Madame Black', altogether, especially if you threaten to measure my inseam, any time soon!" she added, with a chuckle.  
Gaby threw a teaspoon at Narcissa, which she agily ducked. "Shut up, Cissy." Gaby pouted.  
"Oh, Gaby, you know I love you, dear."  
"And I love you too, Cissy. But do not expect me to call you 'Mommy', in zis lifetime!" She gave a mocking glare towards her Maman.  
Apollene, still standing near the bemused Hermione, her arm securely around her shoulders, whispered, "Mon Dieu! Are zey alwayz like zis?"  
"Always, Apollene. Always! Try being the neutral peacemaker... It makes poor Headmistress McGonagall positively batty!" Bemused, the transfiguration professor added, "I will say, however, that Gaby's aim is getting better! She almost actually hit Cissy, that time."  
Apollene gave an uncharacteristic snort of laughter. Finally, Pierre returned, with the additional delicacies the lady of the manor had requested, and Apollene made her way back over to her Cissa. Apollene sat next to her, slyly taking her hand again, under the table. Everyone resumed their respective places, and ate in mostly silence. Occasional grumbles were heard from the youngest Delacour, but breakfast turned out to be a quiet affair, for the most part. After everyone's growling stomach was respectively calmed, Apollene spoke.  
"My dears, we 'ave an important thing to discuss-"  
"-Like why Madame Black was performing moutz to moutz recessitation on your ozzer lips, down below, par exemple?" Gaby interjected, unexpectidely.  
Gaby ducked the flying teaspoon thrown back at her, by Narcissa.  
Apollene kept her face poised. "No, zat wazn't what I meant, but I will say…. she is quite the skilled healer, I must admit. Excellent mouth-to-mouth, by my estimations..." Apollene grinned wickedly, to Gaby's puking gestures and Fleur's salacious grinning. Only Hermione and Narcissa looked remotely embarrassed, both blushing, and exchanging looks.  
These Delacour women certainly had no issues talking quite openly about sex, both Narcissa and Hermione mused.  
Apollene cleared her throat, and continued. "No, dears, what I meant waz…scheduling 'ermione and Fleur's bonding ceremony!"  
Large smiles blossomed on the three Veela's faces, and Hermione and Narcissa once again exchanged looks.  
Apollene continued. "I waz zinking, perhaps over ze Noël break, oui? We can perform ze bonding at ze Veela sacred grounds on ze 31st, peut-etre, zen 'ave a small wedding ceremony at ze estate on ze first of ze year?"  
"Why small?" Gaby interjected. "I mean, 'ermione 'as like, twenty billion friends, az does Fleur! Eet takes 'ours to walk anywhere wiz zem, shopping...all ze 'allos and Ca-va's! Il prend une éternité!"  
Narcissa and Apollene both pursed their lips, simultaneously. At nearly the same time, they both answered, "It's a second wedding." They regarded each other, grinning like lovesick teenagers.  
"Merde!" Gaby grumbled.  
Narcissa looked at Fleur and Hermione, gently. "It wouldn't be socially appropriate, girls, to have a big formal to do, for a 'second' wedding, unfortunately." She patted Hermione's wrist, in sympathy. "Even though it's your first."  
Apollene added quietly, "besides, 'alf of ze Golden Girl's friends are Weasleys, oui? Malheureusement, I zink Molly Weasley iz more zan 'appy to be done wiz ze Delacours, quite frankly, despite ze fact Bill is a lovely man, and doez not 'arbor such feelings, 'imself." Apollene had a trace of sadness in her voice.  
Hermione grimaced, the reminder that her mate belonged to someone else, once upon a time. As if sensing the distress, Fleur leaned even closer to Hermione, and rubbed her thigh, tenderly. Giving her mate a wide and generous smile, Fleur interjected wistfully, "I would love to 'ave a ceremony, at Delacour Pond! Eet 'as always been my favorite... I zink eet would be so romantic!" She looked at Hermione, with an expression of childlike wonderment. "What do you zink, my love?"  
The look she gave Hermione was so earnest, and so devoted, even Gaby herself couldn't find it to mock Fleur.  
Suddenly all the 'Bill jealousy' evaporated from her body, and Hermione was left with nothing but a warm feeling of happiness. She returned Fleur's affectionate gaze, offering quietly, "I would love that, Fleur, especially if it's special, to you." She leaned in for a soft kiss.  
The table was silent for a long moment, the women reflecting on the momentous occasion.  
It was, of course, Gabrielle who brought them out of their silent revere, by proclaiming, "Sans blauge! Zis iz terrible! Absoutelyhorrible!"  
"What is, Gaby?" Asked Hermione, concerned.  
The youngest blonde shook her head, finally cradling her head in both hands, groaning. "Ugh! I cannot be BOTZ of your Maid of Honors, at ze same time! Mon Dieu! " She sighed, melodramatically. Looking up at Hermione and Fleur, Gaby said, "I guess you two will 'ave to fight it out, over who gets me, zen..."  
She gave Fleur a cheeky grin, which Fleur returned, while laughing.  
"Terriblement malheureux, puis!"Fleur said, still laughing. Squinting her eyes at Hermione, Fleur joked, "To ze deatz, Naturellement! Oui?"  
Hermione looked between Gaby and Fleur, speechless.  
Gaby shrugged, nonchalantly. "Eet iz up to you, ma soeur. But... eef you are dead, eet will present challenges to getting married, and ze nuptials, one would zink."  
"Good point, mon bebe!"  
 **XOXOXOXOXOXOX**  
Following their breakfast on the patio, with the notable ongoing refusal of their Maman and Cissy to verbally acknowledge what was going on, Fleur decided to invite Hermione to talk a walk down by the Delacour Pond. She wanted to show her the locale she had in mind, for their wedding. Plus, she was exhausted from her mother's and Narcissa's skill at verbally escaping and evading, anyway.  
Before they began their walk down to the lake, she asked Pierre to pack them some light snacks and refreshments, so they could wander for as long as they desired. Fleur was excited to have "alone time" with Hermione, at her family's Estate.  
Walking hand in hand, Fleur directed Hermione down the steps of the patio, onto the lush lawn that was surrounded on all sides by a landscape of beautiful trees. At several points, Hermione noted the seeming intention of the tree's paths, to deliberately redirect individuals in various directions, around the Estate grounds.  
It was a beautiful and sunny morning, slightly brisk, but not overly cold or uncomfortable; Hermione could not help but look around, in wonderment on such a beautiful day.  
"This place...your home, Fleur, wow... its so stunning! I mean, based on knowing you for quite some time, I did realize that you came from," Hermione measured her words, "...well, an established family; but I had no idea that this was the type of place that you grew up in!" explained Hermione.  
"Eets 'ome ma belle, I've known nozing else." Fleur replied, simply. "I love eet 'ere, I've so many 'appy memories of being young: running around wiz Gaby on zee lawn, family breakfasts on zee patio when eet was warm enough, learning 'ow to swim in zee family pool, and," she gestured in the direction of Delacour Pond, "playing in zee lake in zee summers! Eet was a wonderful childhood. I did know I waz so very lucky, ma chou, to grow up... comme ca." Fleur explained as they kept walking.  
They made their way down a beautiful winding path, through a burst of trees, and finally landing at an opening, which overlooked the lake. Hermione continued to sneak glances at her beautiful Fleur, and smiling to herself.  
It was stunning.  
The sun shone brightly overhead, reflecting on the water. The air was warm and peaceful. Delacour Pond was not enormous, like the one at Hogwarts, but it was rather large enough to require at least 45 minutes in order to navigate around the entire perimeter.  
On the right side from where Fleur had stopped them, stood a small dock leading out into the body of the lake. It looked like the perfect place for one to jump off into the water.  
On the left side of the dock, was a beautiful beach stretch around like a horseshoe; it was enteranced by an opening with rocks fashioning a sort of rock-like cliff, seemingly protecting the perimeter. While it was not exactly an overlook, it was raised slightly off the water, and had a lovely platform shelf.  
"Here, my belle," Fleur said, meaningfully, pointing to the natural platform. "Zis iz where I can imagine us... being married."  
She looked at Hermione, the Veela's heart, pounding. "Zat iz," she added quickly, "eef eet meets your expectations." Fleur's eyes shone brightly, as she looked at her mate, in anticipation.  
"Fleur, it's…" Hermione was speechless, taking the landscape in. "My word...it's perfect," was her genuine response.  
With a giggle and a smile that could light up the world, Fleur dragged Hermione down to the edge of the water. As they approached the shore, Fleur spun Hermione to her, pulling her flush against her body. She then leaned down, deliberately, kissing her witch.  
It was a slow kiss, one that started out with a mere press of lips, gently gracing Hermione's.  
However, as the Englishwoman's arms snaked their way around the other's waist, forcing their contact to become infinetly closer, Fleur gasped. The feeling of their bodies so tightly knit together, caused the Veela's body to overheat, instantly. Fleur opened her mouth, as an invitation for Hermione's tongue. The kiss deepened, their tongues dancing together. Teeth nibbled on each others lips, hands began roaming each other's backs, hips, faces, finally tangling up, in each other's hair.  
As the simple kiss, that evolved into a much longer expression of their passionate devotion, unintentionally, finally ended, they both leaned back and smiled.  
At this, Fleur untangled herself from Hermione. Fleur stood in front of Hermione, smiling. The Englishwoman's looked back, overwhelmed by how beautiful the blonde actually was, in this moment. With a graceful movement, Fleur slowly sank to one knee. Hermione gasped, shocked.  
"Mon tresor...'ermione." Fleur began, her voice shaking. "I realize zat I did zis... zo out of order, ma belle. Je suis desolee, 'ermione...Je sais... zee first zing zat I should 'ave done, waz zis, ma belle: I should 'ave told you, properly, zat you are my mate. And what zat means in zee Veela culture, iz zat we, you and I, are destined for one anozer." She looked at Hermione so earnestly, it almost rendered her in tears.  
Fleur continued. "A power much greater zan ours, put us in zis world, wiz ze intention of us spending our lives togezer... as one. Az ze Veela mate pair. When I realized zat eet was you, ma belle; you, 'ermione, were my Veela mate, " her voice trailed off, and she had to steady the emotions in her heart, before continuing. The memory of her realization was overwhelming to the young Veela. She finally collected herself, and willed her body not to cry...yet. She grasped Hermione's hands, clutching them tightly.  
"Ze feelings of such intense peace and happiness settled in on me, 'ermione, zat waz unlike anyzing I 'ave ever known before! You, ma belle, are ze bravest person I know!" Fleur's eyes were passionate. "You are intelligent in a way that astounds me; you are curious, and funny, and you 'ave a smile zat when it lights up all the way to your eyes, could outshine the sun, I zink!"  
Hermione blushed, but remained quiet, listening in rapt attention.  
"I find you sexy in a way zat iz... indescribable. I can't get enough of you, 'Ermione. But wiz the peace zat came from knowing zat eet was you who was ma mate, zat peace was coupled wiz... fear." Fleur's voice trembled, slightly. "Fear, zat you would not feel zee same way, about me."  
Fleur dropped Hermione's hands, running them through her own platinum mane. She sighed, and looked towards the water. It was then a solitary tear rolled down her cheek.  
Quietly, the Veela explained, "Ma belle, I am destined to love you, wiz everyzing in me... for zee remainder of our lives. Zee way I feel about you iz zo powerful, zo consuming." Fleur clutched her hands to her chest, balling them. "You, my dearest 'ermione, you are my light, and my joy, and my passion! Wizout you, zere iz no me."  
She took a deep breath, and removed a delicate piece of jewlrey from her brocade pocket. She looked up at her witch, eyes full of devotion, and spoke, more firmly, this time. "And so, I made zis," She held up Hermione's ring, much to Hermione's suprise. Fleur grinned. "Zis ring for you, ma belle, waz made...wiz the essence of myself, to show you and the world, zat you are mine, 'ermione. Eet also symbolizes zat I am yours, az well."  
While the witches had been kissing, unnoticed by Hermione, the ring that had been surrounding her ring finger had been removed with a little charm by Fleur. Hermione couldn't believe she had been so distracted! Fleur was...well, amazing.  
The devoted Veela spoke again. "Zo, I present to you, zis ring. I ask you, from ze bottom of my 'eart: Mademoiselle 'ermione Jean Granger, will you please complete our Veela bonding, and become mine for life? Will you marry me, 'ermione?" Fleur asked her the question, with tears now openly trailing down the blonde's face.  
As Hermione looked down at Fleur, on one knee, marveling at the face of the woman she loved, she couldn't help but appreciate the complete love and total devotion, encapsulated in the blue eyes, waiting expectantly.  
This was more than Hermione had ever dreamed! In reality, she was not a dreamer, when it came to love; the pratical Gryffindor would never have described herself as a romantic in the past. She had never been someone who had spent time pondering what it would be like when someone proposed to her, provided that had ever happened!  
But this...  
If she could have scripted a moment like what she would have wanted, it would have been exactly this. While it certainly would have been preferable for it to occur prior to last evening's affairs, it did not take away from the fact that now, the woman she loved with her whole being, had just proposed to her so eloquently. It made, frankly, her unintentional dreams come true.  
For the first time in her full life, Hermione Granger became a _dreamer_.  
Eyes shining, the brunette soundly responded with the word every Veela waits their whole life, unconsciously, to hear.  
"Yes."  
Fleur buried her face in her hands, sobbing with relief. Hermione knelt down with her, gently removeing her hands from her face, and waited for the blue eyes to finally meet hers. "Yes, Fleur... I want to marry you, more than anything I've even done in my entire life!"  
With that, the Gryffindor in Hermione roared, and she grabbed Fleur, and pulled them both to stand. Boldly, Hermione looked at the slightly disraught blonde in front of her. Smiling, Hermione cocked her head, then leaned in, grabbing Fleur. Before the blonde could say a word, Hermione kissed her, with all the passion in her body. Hermione felt her own tears of joy start to fall, but she refused to break the kiss. Finally, at this point, with them both crying, they pulled away. Looking at each other, they laughed, breaking into grins, then launched into each other's arms.  
The moment was perfection.  
Fleur slipped the ring back on Hermione's finger, and all was forgiven from before. All that mattered was how they moved forward, together. From the small bag Fleur had carried with her down to the lake that held the goodies packed by Pierre, she used her wand to create a blanket for the two witches to sit upon. Once the two were comfortable on their blanket, Fleur began unpacking their goodies, marveling at Pierre's bounty.  
"Thank you Fleur." Hermione said, gently. "Thank you for... this. For proposing properly, and so romantically, too. On the very spot where we are too be married, no less! It could not have been more perfect."  
Fleur blushed, relieved.  
Hermione mused thoughtfully, "Although, I think I would have been just as happy to propose to you, my love!"  
Fleur shook her head. "Well, zere are certain zings you will 'ave to learn about zee Veela, ma belle, and one iz zat ze proposal 'ad to come from me. Eet always destined to come from me, given zat you, ze mate, 'olds such power over my life, I zink. But you were unaware of zat custom, Je sais." Fleur smiled, gently. "But zee fact that you would 'ave zought to do so...well, zat makes my 'eart soar!"  
Fleur offered her a cup of steaming hot coffee from the canister that had been packed for them. Hermione took it gratefully, and Fleur watched, highly amused, as Hermione had what could only be described as...a moment. With her coffee.  
Laughing, Fleur said, "But 'ermione, zere is somezing elze zat I need to apologize for..."  
"Okay?" Hermione responded, barley taking the time to remove her lips from her cup. She cradled it as though it were a lifeline.  
Fleur chuckled again, mentally noting she needed to buy them an expresso machiene, tout suite. "Well, I regret somezing else zat I am desperate to make up for, if you will let me. I know from our talks zat you and your parents 'ave a good, but somewhat distant relationship, oui?"  
Hermione nodded.  
"But... zey are still your parents, 'ermione, and I've not met zem yet!" Fleur shook her head. "I should 'ave at least met zem, and informed zem of my intentions, before I proposed! So, eef you would be agreeable, zen, can I meet your parents, soon... 'Ermione?"  
Hermione put down her cup. "Fleur! Oh yes, that would be...delightful, really!" Her expression darkened, slightly. "Fleur.. I don't want you to be upset, though, if we do."  
Fleur looked confused.  
Hermione explained, gently, also deciding to resume her relationship with the cup. After another sip, she offered, "While I do ...absolutely ... want you to meet my parents...uh," Hermione paused. "After all, I do want them to know the woman who captured my heart, and with whom I plan to spend my life... I am not upset that you did not meet them before we bonded." She looked at the confused Veela. "I love them Fleur," Hermione explained. "I do. They are my parents. But ... my family is different than yours."  
Hermione took another drink, thinking about how to explain this to the family-obsessed Veela, who had grown up in such a different world than hers.  
Hermione thoughtfully explained, "While we-my parents, and I- love each other, we are not an affectionate family, really. We are not that close, and they are not the overtly loving type of parents. I don't question their love, Fleur. But the dynamic we have is nothing like the one you possess with your family, Fleur. I just want to manage your expectations, accordingly."  
The brunette took another drink, frowning that she had emptied the cup. Fleur, smiling, passed over hers, which Hermione took, sheepishly. Fleur mentally noted she needed to get that expresso maker... perhaps before she returned to London, even.  
"I have always wondered if my parents even really wanted a child…not in a bad way; I never felt unloved, Fleur. But that feeling of intense devotion that comes with family... a family like yours, for example...well, I've never felt it before. The closest thing I felt to a family, one that I envisioned: a loving, boisterous , would fight-to-the-death-for-each-other type of family, was my relationship with the Weasley's. And well...I mean, bloody hell, you of all people appreciate how consuming and wonderful that family can be!"  
Fleur nodded, in agreement.  
Hermione chuckled. "Blimey, when they take you in, they make you one of theirs, that's for sure!" Hermione paused, thinking. She spoke, after a moment, in measured words. "While I will forever be grateful to the Weasley's, allowing me to participate, up close and personal, the epitome of what I'd like my family, our family, to be like, Fleur...they never were truly mine."  
Fleur looked suprised. "But zey love you, 'ermione!" She insisted. "Passionately!"  
Hermione nodded in acknowledgement. "And I love them, too, Fleur. But.. it was not until today that I realized that I finally felt like I completely belonged, in a family. Your family, Fleur."  
"Our family, 'ermione."  
The brunette smiled. "Thank you, Fleur. Yes. Today, on the balcony... being with you, Gaby, your Maman, and now Cissy...well, that was the closest I've felt to a family. I fit perfectly inside somewhere, for the first time in my life."  
With that Hermione paused, letting the stunning admission sink in with Fleur.  
"Fleur, I have tried, over and over again throughout my life, to make my little muggle family be more than what it is. But I can't. It's just not who we are." Hermione looked very matter of fact. "So, this was a very long winded way to explain, while I absolutely want you to meet my parents, Fleur...it would never have been expected that you asked them before we got here today. I promise. Do not blame yourself for anything."  
The blonde sat in silence for a moment, absorbing all that Hermione had explained to her. The joy she felt in giving Hermione a "sense of family" was profound, especially for the family-oriented Veela. Fleur struggled to find words to respond, struggling to understand how family could be so indifferent to one another.  
She vowed never to let Hermione feel unimportant...ever, in a family. Tenatively, Fleur said simply, "'Ermione, you are my 'ome now, and I am yours. And I am so grateful zat you love my family, as much as zey love you. Ozzerwize," Fleur said, with a twinkle in her eye, "...eet would be very awkward wiz zem fawning over you constantly, and angsting over every decision you make 'encefortz, in zeir overbearing way, oui?"  
They both laughed. Fleur concluded, "Because you do fit, 'ermione. You finally took your spot, reserved for only you, in your destined family...and you fit perfectly, and always will." She punctuated the conversation with another kiss.  
Fleur then diverted, fiddling with their snacks, allowing Hermione the moment to collect herself, unobserved.  
"However," the auror continued, "I'm glad you still want me to meet your parents, anyway. Because I would like to meet zem and zank them, really...for making you, 'ermione! My perfect mate."  
"Oh yes Fleur, absolutely," she said with a smile.  
They ate in relative silence simply enjoying the view and each other. Hermione came out of her thoughts, voicing aloud, "Um, Fleur? Have you...I mean, well...what the bloody hell do you think is going on between your Maman and Narcissa?"  
Fleur nearly spit out her croissant, laughing.  
Hermione continued, eyes wide. "Because... that was quite a scene we walked in on!" Hermione stated, her face bright red.  
Fleur reached over, touching her nose. "You are zoooo cute, ma belle! Especially when your adorable face turns bright red! Like a une tomate," Fleur laughed. "Well, to answer your question, hmmm. I am not entirely sure. While we Veela are more zan comfortable wiz both men and women as lovers, I am unaware of a time zat my Maman has ever been wiz a woman! Eet suprised me az much as you, 'ermione!" Fleur shook her head. "And zeir actions at breakfast toward one another? Well, I zink...eet pointed toward somezing more. But I guess we shall wait for zem to come out wiz eet properly when zey are ready." Fleur suggested, with a shrug not unlike Gaby's.  
Hermione looked like she might burst.  
"I don't want to get my hopes up Fleur, but I mean... how amazing would it be, if your Maman... and my 'surrogate Maman' found love together?" Hermione said wistfully.  
 **XOXOXOXOXOXOXO**  
Meanwhile, back on the balcony, the three remaining blondes sat, enjoying their coffee a little longer, following Fleur and Hermione's departure.  
Things had tensed up, slightly, after the two mates retired, at the breakfast table. Gaby no longer had her personal filter of her big sister to act as a buffer of sorts, between the two Delacours. Despite Gaby's frequent efforts, her Maman was resolute in not talking about the elephant in the room. This frustrated the youngest Delacour to no end, and was evolving into more and more of a problem for Gabrielle.  
This was her mother.  
And this was _her_ Narcissa, as well.  
The two people she was closest to in the world at this moment, her best mates, Hermione and Narcissa...they had both suddenly become entangled with the two most important people in her other world, her Maman and Fleur! With a sudden awareness, the realization left Gaby feeling like an outsider in her own life.  
Narcissa observed the change in demeanor of the younger witch, but was trying to tread lightly between Apollene and Gabrielle. She herself was a bit uncomfortable at being between the two as clearly the tension had built up to a tipping point.  
"Umm, ladies, I must excuse myself." Narcissa offered, smoothly. "I promised Draco that I would speak with him following the ball; he was interested in hearing how things went. I feel I need to to just check in, with my son." She looked towards Apollene. "Lene, would it be alright if I used the Floo in your room, to connect with him, now?"  
"Cissa, what'z mine iz yours, of course! Bien sur! I'll come up to join you in a bit, oui?" Apollene said, with a smile.  
Narcissa nodded, and stood up. Placing her napkin on the table, she leaned over, and kissed both Apolline's cheeks in a French bis. Gaby gratefully smiled when she walked over and did the same to her, giving her a warm hug, before finally leaving the table to head upstairs.  
Apollene's smile dropped, momentairly. Her gaze fixed on her youngest, the head of the Clan asked, "Now, my darling Gabrielle... would you like to tell your Maman what 'as your feathers so ruffled zis morning, ma petite drame queen?  
One would not call her tone gentle, but there was an undercurrent of love, underneath.  
Gaby sighed, dramatically. "I'm not sure , Maman... I am not sure I am ready to talk about my feeling right now, wiz you," she replied tersely, as she stood to leave.  
"Gabrielle, **stop** right zis this instant!"  
Gaby stopped, frozen. She turned back, to face her mother, her expression revealing nothing.  
The powerful Veela matriarch regarded her youngest, sizing her up. "Itz clear you are dérangé my dearest Gabrielle. You know zat 'olding eet in, will do you no good! Avec elle! " Narrowing her eyes, she asked more gently, "Does zis 'ave to do with... Fleur and Hermione's bonding, ma petite?"  
"Non. I am thrilled for zee two of them, Maman. C'est vrai! All I've ever wanted, waz for ma Fleur to find 'er 'appiness." Gaby's face had relaxed, talking about her beloved big sister. "I alwayz zought 'er relationship wiz William waz zo forced. Not zat he waz a bad man," she quickly added, "...but eet waz clear, to me, at least, zat zeirs was a match of timing, not of passion."  
"Moi aussi, Gabrielle."  
"Really? Zen why didn't you stop-"  
Apollene waived her off. "Gaby, in all ze years you 'ave known 'er...'ave you ever been able to stop Fleur when she iz set on somezing? Even eef itz a bad decision?"  
Gaby chuckled. "Good point, Maman. She's like a _mule_ , zat one."  
"Oui." Her Maman acknowledged.  
"Good zing, zen, she found ze ozzer enormous mule! 'Ermione iz perfect for her." Gaby's face became unguarded, morphing into true delight. "Eet waz unexpected, bien sûr, but eet iz clear zose two mules... zey are mates. And maybe zis meanz I will see Fleur more zan I 'ave in zee past?" Gaby explained honestly, suddenly sounding like a little sister.  
"Alright zen," Apollene acknowledged. "Zen, mais alors, what iz eet, ma darling?" Apollene tried again, in an effort to get her youngest to speak.  
"Non." Gaby said, abruptly, shaking her head. Putting her sunglasses back on, she said, "Maman, not now. I am going to go for a swim... I need to clear my head."  
With that, the youngest Delacour bent down, giving her Maman a kiss on the cheek, and walked away. Apolline watched the retreating figure of her youngest daughter, now finding herself alone on the balcony, deep in thought.  
 **TBC**


	10. The Return To Hogwarts

**Chapter 10: The Return to Hogwarts.**  
The following day was unpleasant for all five of the witches, currently holed up at the Delacour Estate. For the following day was "the day"…the day in which Hermione, Gaby, and Narcissa all had to grudgingly return to Hogwarts.  
It was clear that no one was happy to depart from the Delacour Estate.  
In contrast, the day prior had been spent idyllically with all of the women enjoying one another's company. It went without saying that Fleur and Hermione, as well as Narcissa and Apolline, managed to squirrel away several moments of "alone time," but it was not at the expense of everything and everyone else.  
The witches cadences of laughter could be heard in the library, as well as the women holding confessionals, gossiping, reading interesting things aloud, and even Hermione (much to her own surprise) convincing the non-muggle witches to play one of her favorite childhood games, _Yatzee!_  
She had them all in giggling with her enthusiasm for the dice game and found that her family was _quite_ the competitive bunch. She had to eventually resort to putting protection spells on the dice and table in order to stop all the gratuitous cheating!  
They had talked more about the upcoming bonding and wedding of Fleur and Hermione and reveled in their making of plans.  
Thinking about the invitation list, and the scheduling of when they would all get together in the upcoming months to prepare the fete further, it was decided that Narcissa would be helping Hermione with her wedding dress shopping. Fleur, of course, would go with her Maman and Gaby.  
They settled on all meeting again in three weeks time at Hogwarts; for that was when Fleur anticipated having another week or so off. Fleur also informed them, much to her Maman's delight, that she was planning on meeting Hermione's parents as soon as possible. Things seemed in order…  
…the day prior.  
However, the morning of their departure, in what had become their now routiene of the balcony breakfast soiree, together, Cissy and Apollene seemed slightly nervous.  
Unbenowst to the younger set, the night before, Cissy and Apolline exhaused a long conversation about how to approach their younger witches about what was transpiring between them.  
They knew it was pressing, and had to have that conversation before they left the Estate.  
In all fairness, the two older witches needed some time to process, together… before "coming out" to the girls. Unfortuantely, the residual damage might be the ugly result of upsetting Fleur and Gaby, they feared...and possibly Hermione as well, by not addressing it sooner with them.  
Apollene nervously cleared her throat, once.  
Fleur and Gaby just continued their oblivious morning debate, ignoring their Maman.  
Apollene cleared her throat, again.  
Fleur was using rapid French to insult her younger sibling and her "inadeuqate mass weight of her underdeveloped, single minded" brain, to which the younger responded that at least she had one, that resided in her skull, as opposed to being soley operated by Fleur's rudiementary brain located between her legs.  
Fleur, predictably, unleashed very colorful swear words that sounded romatic when said en Francais, and Apollene cleared her throat, yet again.  
Fleur huffed, whirling her attention to the forgotton bystander. "Maman! What ze 'ell? Are you 'aving allergies? Do you need a hanky?"  
Before Apollene could even register being wounded, no matter how slight, Narcissa stepped in.  
"For the love of all things Merlin!" Cissy said, in an unexpecidly stern tone. "Would you two stop, PLEASE, for one moment?" They stopped, shocked, looking at the Regal Black woman, who never shouted. The austere blonde merely arched an eyebrow, in response. She said, dryly, "Your mother has been politely trying to get your attention, for nearly ten minutes!"  
Gaby threw up her hands. "What? Why didn't she _throw_ somezing, zen, like usual?" Gaby grumbled. "Normally, she bellows like a blowhard, until ze 'ouse fallz down! Now zat she's bonded, she became ...dainty, or somezing? _Dainty_!"  
She nudged her big sister, who added dryly, "We don't speak ze "dainty" in ze Delacour 'ousehold.."  
"Zat's right, Fleur!" Gaby nodded, approvingly. "So now, wiz zis personal rennizzance of 'ers, we 'ave to get a sign language interpreter or somezing?"  
"...Or get ze 'earing aids." Fleur interjected.  
"...Or become a master legillimas, to intuit what ze 'ell she might be saying to us, now zat she's so demure!" Gaby threw her hand up in the air. "I mean, je suis en a bouché _un coin_! Vraiment! Maman, _what ze 'ell_?" Gaby ranted for a full five minutes more, with a few choice Fleur's interjections; even Hermione was trying hard not to laugh. When Gaby had finally milked her own personal amusement to its last drop, she quieted.  
Narcissa merely rolled her eyes, holding the bridge of her nose. After a calming breath, she looked adoringly at the girls' mother, and said, "Darling, the floor is now finally yours, it appears…"  
"Zank you, Cissa." She chuckled. Turning her attention to her rabble rousers, she said, "Zo, Cissa and I 'ave 'ad some much needed time together to discuss what is obviously happening between us and, while we needed it, without question... in zat process, we are botz sorry zat we did not explain sooner what waz 'appening."  
She gave the girls a wan grin.  
"But, my little baby darlings, we needed ze time to ourselves…as you can 'opefully understand! Additionally, we wanted to allow zee focus to be on 'Ermione and Fleur, where eet should be." She leveled a reproachful look at the two Veela. "Which eet would 'ave been, may I point out, 'ad you not, you three, barged into my bedroom!" Apolline was getting on a roll. "I mean, really…who barges into a Veela's bedroom, wizout knocking? Zat's insane!"  
She shushed her girls' protests.  
"S'il vous plait! Zis is not ze time for arguing!" At this, she grabbed Narcissa hand and smiled at her broadly before looking back to her girls.  
"Fleur, Gabrielle, you both know I loved your Papa... dearly. Zat man waz ma best friend, and we lived a very long, 'appy life together. We loved each other dearly, but both your Papa and I knew zat we were not each others true Veela mates. Zat waz okay wiz us both, we loved each other anyway. While we knew zee possibility of a mate appearing one day could occur, eets not everday zat zis 'appens for a Veela. Eet waz a risk we were both willing to take. When your Papa passed, eet broke my 'eart, alors...az you both saw and were zere for me during zis incredibly painful time, for us all. I never, never expected to find ze love again."  
Here she paused, looking meaningfull at her beloved daughters, "I waz zo blessed to 'ave you two in ma life." She squeezed each hand of her offspring.  
Then, she waived her elegant hand in the air, indifferent. "A leettle romp 'ere and zere," she said with a sly wink to Gaby, "...but love, I just never…"  
She stopped for a moment, took a deep breath and looked at Narcissa, her eyes a well of emotion.  
"Fleur, ze way you described 'ow you felt when you met 'ermione, eet waz profound. And when I spoke to zee Veela elders on your behalf, I learned a lot about zee Veela mate I 'ad never known before, not 'aving direct experience. So, when I met Cissa at zee ball," she paused again to collect herself. "Well, she iz ma mate, darlings! Itz waz love at first sight."  
They squeezed each others hand, and exchanged a look. "And now, I truly understand ze term 'love at first sight', because when I looked at 'er and our handz touched," the lights twinkled in Apollene's eyes, "eet waz exactement 'ow you described eet, Fleur. I waz consumed!"  
The look she gave Narcissa Black was one of utter devotion and complete infatuation. She sighed out, "I can now say, gratefully, zat my Cissa feels ze same way… about me."  
The table stayed silent for a moment, with neither Fleur nor Gabrielle speaking. So with a squeeze of Fleur's hand, Hermione spoke.  
"Um…" Hermione began, stumbling slightly. Her eyes darted nervously around the four pairs of eyes staring at her. "Oh, bollocks! I'm usually so much more eloquent! What I mean to say, is….well, I realize my role in this family is quite new. And yes... I also realize that at the moment, I am related to none of you," she stated, receiving a firm glance from Fleur, "but however deluded I am," she grinned, "I still feel like your family. So, I for one, as your family, want to say how incredibly happy this make me! Narcissa," The Golden Girl said, turning to look the healer square in the eye, unrepentantly, "I never knew how much I really needed a guiding hand, in the wizarding world...something 'non-muggles' take for granted, I should think. I don't – you have become - well, my guide on my journey of late, and I love you fiercely." Hermione said earnestly, "You have become like a mother to me… and I am so happy that now, I guess, by all appearances… we are going to become a true family." Without realizing, tears starting flowing down her face. "Bloody hell, I swear I never cry this much!" Hermione exclaimed, "but I am just so happy for you both! Finding Fleur has made me happier than I ever knew was possible, and to know you two have found that in each other is magnificent."  
Narcissa slowly stood, and with tears in her eyes, got up from the table and walked over to Hermione and held her tightly, both whispering I love you in each other's ears.  
Narcissa turned to the group, "Speaking of motherhood, I suppose this is a good of time as any to mention the fact that Lene and I decided, well, how the news of our "mating" is broken to my son, Draco, needs to be done….rather gently."  
Hermione let out a gasp. "Oh Merlin's Beard, Cissy! I totally forgot about _the ferret_!"  
Narcissa cast her a rather stern look, to which Hermione retracted, "I mean…your son, Cissy. Sorry. Old habits! Bad habits…would you like to call me a mudblood, for old times sakes?" She grinned nervously.  
"Oh, Bollocks, Hermione….really?" Narcissa huffed. "Just work on being more enlightened, like myself, in the future, dear." She kissed Hermione on her cheek, and retook her seat. Wiping the corner of her mouth with a napkin, she said, "Oh, and I highly advise not to actually call my Draco ferret,' either. He gets a little….twitchy, when that's brought up."  
"Noted." Hermione nodded.  
"I will also work with him, as I have all throughout the school year, not to call you names, in kind, as well."  
"Really?" Hermione said, reverting to a 15 year old Gryffindor.  
Narcissa grinned, a teasing glint in her eye. "Oh, I can't recall, exactly, but something to the effect of…."Teacher's Pet", "Mudblood", "Muddy", "Whineyone Granger", "Potty's Girl", "Little Miss KnowItAll," "Granger", "SPEW on me", or any other of his derogatory nicknames, either."  
Hermione looked at her, blinking. "For not remembering, lady, that's a pretty _comprehensive_ list." Fleur gave a meanacing look to Narcissa while Hermione just looked perplexed.  
Narcissa Black smiled. "Indeed, it is. A list which I have ensured is _never_ said, publically or privately.... anymore."  
Hermione nodded. "Well, I guess the satisfaction of Malfoy….er, I mean, Draco, that is….having to call me "Hermione" is all worth it, I guess! Good luck, Cissy. Some civility between the two of us would be nice, I suppose."  
"Indeed it would, my dear. While I have taken the Hippocratic oath, Hermione, I have also reminded him that you have not, and still possess a fierce right hook." Narcissa smiled. "He understands that you are not afraid to employ it, if necessary."  
Hermione giggled, the private joke of her third year slugging of Draco Malfoy was lost on the Delacours.  
"Regardless," Narcissa continued, "the point is, I hope you will all be amenable to meeting Draco in person in three weeks, at our reconvening; I would very much like to discuss this with him in person, and its much easier to understandi if you can put a visual representation together with the story."  
"Hmm." Hummed the youngest Delacour, thinking. "I do not recommend 'im 'aving ze same 'visual representation' az we did, in person, 'owever." Gabby said, matter-of-factly.  
Narcissa deadpanned back. "Well, fortunately, I was thinking more along the lines of _lunch_ , actually, Gabrielle."  
Gaby shrugged. "Zat's good, zen. Lunch, Eh? Well, I suppose. People 'ave to eat, after all."  
After watching that interesting display, Fleur realized she should probably redirect the conversation, once again, back to the topic at hand.  
"Maman, Narcissa, I could not be more pleased zat you two 'ave bonded, az well. Mine and Gaby's jokey-jokes earlier aside, I...well." She shrunched up her face, adorabily, thinking how to best respond. "Ze trutz... eet's a surprise to zay zee least," she chuckled, "but Maman, from zee moment I met Narcissa, eet was clear how much my 'Ermione and Gaby loved her, and I have developed a deep affection for her az well. I guess one could say that falling in love wiz beautiful ladies now runz in zee family, non? We will just have to see who appears for our Gabs, oui?"  
Apolline then stood and went to hug Fleur as well, kissing both her cheeks and whispering, "Zank you my darling fille, zank you."  
As Apolline returned to her seat next to Narcissa, she paused for a moment touching Hermione on the shoulder and gave her a loving smile, mouthing the words Thank you, as well. After she sat, the table then turned to Gabrielle.  
"My dearest Gabrielle, ca va?" Apolline asked.  
"Oui, felicitations," she stated and then stood, "Now, Maman, Excusez-moi, s'il vous plait. I need to finish packing before we 'ead out." With that, Gabrielle walked away leaving behind the two newly mated pairs.  
**XOXOXOXOXOXOX**  
The goodbyes were brutal. As Fleur and Hermione were a mess, and with the additional information that since their bonding, it would be likely that the distance would only intensify their need to be together and they might even begin to feel each other's emotions, they were both a nervous wreck. They were holding each other tightly and had refused to let go of one another, even going as far as to be in the bathroom together at one point not wanting to be separated. Of course they would never tell anyone else that, but they really, really did not want to part.  
Cissa and Lene were not fairing much better, but were in just slightly more control of their emotions than the younger witches. Although, still not happy with the idea of being apart so soon after their bonding as well. Following breakfast, they had snuck up to Lene's room to discuss what came next. Narcissa had her job at Hogwarts and she was finally feeling like her life was starting to make sense. She did not want to leave it and Lene would not ask her. But Lene had responsibilities in France and could not just up and leave to follow her witch to Scotland.  
Lene and Cissa's lovemaking had been furious following breakfast. It seems like nothing could satiate the witches who had just realized how absolutely incredible it was to make love with not only your one true love, but with a woman! And for Cissy this was quite an awakening. They tasted each other with their mouths; they used their fingers to bring each other to new heights. They discovered that Cissa was particularly sensitive when Lene sucked vigorously at her breasts, and that Lene could come in just a moment after Cissa entered her after watching Cissa unravel below her first.  
Naked, laying entwined, they discussed this newfound passion.  
"Lene," Cissa asked tentatively. "Have you ever been with a woman before? Because it feels like you, well... know your way around, if you understand my meaning." She seemed suddenly reticent. "I've never…in fact, you are only the second person I've been with before, and I finally feel after a lifetime I finally understand... passion." Narcissa blushed, which was truly unlike the proud woman. Apollene Delacour, in just a few short days, had turned her into a woman who could simply not get enough.  
Apollene had a very empathetic expression as she began, "Cissa, darling... we Veela are far more free and accepting of love, and passion, and ze sex... any way zat eet comes. I understand zat iz different. Before I waz married, I 'ad fooled around wiz ze women, and since Armand's passing, I may 'ave 'ad another fling or two. Or so. But Cissa," she continued, earnestly, "I 'ave never been wiz a woman, in the way we 'ave been together! Zat I can assure you, mon amour," she explained.  
"My marriage to Lucius," Narcissa started, "was clearly nothing like yours and your family life. Our family, our relationship was very... proper. Very pureblood, proper English. Our dining habits were proper, our home was proper, our communications were proper. Even our sex life was proper English, Lene!"  
Narcissa folded her hands in her lap.  
She continued, quietly. "Nothing, nothing like... anything we have experienced together. Even my past family life could not be more dissimilar, to what I've experienced so far being with you, Gaby and Fleur! Our life was so focused on outward appearances, then it became about the Dark Lord. When Lucius, and my sister, brought that," her voice turned sour, "...Him, into our lives, my focus went solely on keeping Draco safe. I regret so many things about my past, but the one thing I did right was to keep my son safe. And, well, I suppose I did defy the Dark Lord, when I told him Harry was dead…but honestly? Even that was about my son, really." Narcissa admitted, quietly.  
"I've tried so hard to make up for my families past wrongs, and trying to "do right" in this world, Lene. But while I realize that we have only been together a few days, what I feel for you, Lene... it's profound. Our relationship, coupled with the family we now blended," she hesitated for a moment, ultimately smiling. "The family we have inherited together, is the best thing that has ever happened to me, outside Draco of course! But... please forgive me as I take it all in, because it could not be anything more different than the "proper" life I had, in the past."  
"You beautiful, proper witch, you!" Lene smiled. "Zank you for sharing zat wiz me. I, too, am delighted by zee family zat we 'ave togezer, wiz your 'ermione now a part az well. I am looking forward to meeting your Draco, alzough I weell admit, I am concerned Cissa. Az you 'ave explained, we could not be more different in terms of ze inner workings of our family, zan what 'is upbringing waz like, despite our similar social standings. I 'ope 'e will accept me, and us, because you are ma mate, Cissa." She spoke with a firmness, a resoulte understanding. She looked very serious as she finished, "And I acknowledge eets only been a few days, but I know what I want, for us, and for our future. But I will give you all zee time you need, Darling." Lene offered, smiling.  
The French matriarch then pulled her witch in, engaging in yet another passionate kiss.  
The women, when alone together, were unlike the public perception these two elegant and mannered society ladies. They were tender and loving, playful and gentle. They were happy in a way both were unfamiliar with prior, and it felt wonderful.  
"Thank you, Lene! Thank you, for understanding me. It's amazing how you do that, already," stated Cissa, when they finally disengaged from their kiss.  
"Darling, you showed up 'ere a few dayz ago zinking your time would be spent ensuring our girls would 'ave a wonderful time together, didn't you? My poor Cissa! Zen, you up and fell in love, wiz a French Veela woman no less! While eets a whirlwind for uz both, Darling.. I at least knew my mate could come at any time, in any person!" Lene seemed very amused. "You, my love, I am sure, were not expeting zis, oui?"  
Cissa smiled. "Thank you," was all she needed to say.  
"Hm. Eet iz clear, Cissa, zat we need to determine 'ow to be together after you leave, zis evening. Az I explained to Fleur and 'ermione, eet will become painful for us to be apart. I'm zorry zat zis iz 'ow eet works, wiz zee Veela, but I can't say I'm zorry to 'ave found you," Apolline explained, truthfully.  
"Lene, Gaby has mentioned that you have a Floo connection in her room, correct? How exactly does that work?" Cissy inquired.  
"Ahhh, zee Floo connection! Minerva, zat dear, set eet up for us! Alas, eet does not allow for zee international travel, only for us to talk to one anozer. But, I do wonder eef between zee two of us, we might be able to make eet a more useful connection…" she trailed off in thought.  
The witches were determined to figure out how to see one another more often than standard international travel allowed. Their minds rapidly processing, and considering who they both were, it was likely something would come together. As it was, they had plans to see each other in three weeks and would go from there.  
**XOXOXOXOXOXO**  
Back in Fleur and Hermione's room, the young witches were also wrapped up in each other, naked in their bed. They had made desperate love, after Hermione's instant demand they finish packing first, and lay tangled together, in the afterglow. Neither wanted to move.  
Ever.  
If only they could possibly make that work!  
"Fleur, three weeks seems like a lifetime! I realize I'm being ridiculous, but I just don't want to part, from you! I didn't want to, last time... and now I feel like my heart is going to be ripped out of my chest." Hermione fought back tears. "I've never been so needy, damn it! You Veela make everything quite melodramatic," she sighed. Her eyes were wide. "I'm scared, Fleur. I'm scared about your job, scared about you being hurt."  
She shook off Fleur's attempts to console her. "I realize that you are so good at what you do, but I just can't help be terrified that something might happen to you! I know I won't die without you, as in your circumstance with me, but I feel like I would Fleur! Know that I'd die, from a broken heart."  
"Ah, my 'ermione, I promise you zis: I will do a better job of communicating wiz you while we are apart, oui? I promise you zat you will 'ear from me, at every chance I can get. And likely ze next weekend, in just one week, ma belle... " She smiled, reassuringly at the mild agitated Gryffindor, "I will try my best to be at 'ogwarts so we can go meet your parents properly for zee first time. Bien?" Fleur asked.  
"Hm. Oui." Answered Hermione, with a grin.  
"Mmmmmm, I like zee sound of zat you cheeky witch!" Fleur said, pulling Hermione closer into her. The plush lips found the other's, kissing her furiously, once again.  
**XOXOXOXOXOXO**  
Eventually it was time for the witches to depart and after many kisses, hugs and some tears, they headed off to their International Floo connection to go back Hogwarts.  
The first few days left both Narcissa and Hermione practically despondent, with Gaby shuttling many sleeping draughts and pepper up potions from the potion master. At one-point, Madame Pomfrey's cousin and Headmistress McGonagall had to fill in temporarily for the inert mates, respectively.  
Hermione, between restless sleep and moping, knew she needed to focus on a solution instead of how miserable she felt away from Fleur. Could we use some sort of Muggle technology, she wondered. No, because Hogwarts was simply not equipped for anything of the sort. Could they petition the Ministry of Magic for better Floo options? Well, she knew that Apolline was working on that angle. How could they see each other, even if they were far apart?  
Finally, in a stroke of brilliance, Hermione realized that something like the enchanted coins they used for the DA, was going to be the best solution. But she needed more than just a simple way to communicate a time and date to meet, so she spent the next few days in her favorite place, the library, studying charms. She played with coins, wands, silverware, Hogwarts a History, and finally mirrors. If there was a way to charm a mirror to allow them to see each other that could be the solution. Using a complex set of charms, including the Protean Charm, she transfigured a mirror into a little circular object, much like a compact for makeup that she had seen her mother use when she was young.  
She charmed the compact to include a mirror and a device that allowed you hear the person on the other side from long distances. Then she went about figuring how to alert the other person that you wanted to connect.  
Back in the library she studied more about the Veela bond and having an idea of how to use that connection, she Floo'd to Apolline to share her idea and clarify a few points about the bond.  
Apolline was quite helpful. They spoke for quite some time about how to best use their Veela bond to create that connection. Turns out a bit of Veela blood magic might do the trick! They figured that by using a simpler version of the blood magic in their bonding ceremony to join their two souls, they could simply prick their fingers and using that blood, would mark it on both compacts creating a connection that would only work between the two women. It was an exhilarating discussion, both witches were excited about the possibility.  
Apolline was more impressed than ever, by her future daughter-in-law. After a few more recommendations and adjustments, Apolline and Hermione agreed to use the Floo again tonight with Narcissa present to try to finish the charm.  
**XOXOXOXOXOXO**  
That evening, Hermione and Narcissa joined Gaby in her quarters to test their new device. She hoped that even though Narcissa and Apolline were not in the same room, that using the Floo they could still combine the blood and magically seal the compact devices together.  
After a few tries, they succeeded and both Apolline and Cissy were more excited and grateful than they could have ever imagined.  
They didn't call Hermione "The Brightest Witch of her Era" for nothing, after all.  
By opening the compact and holding it in both hands, while either Apolline or Cissy whispered the other's name, their respective mates would feel something akin to a warm caress come over their bodies. The recipient would hear their name, floating like a whisper, past their ear. Upon opening, they could physically see the other mate, and communicate.  
This is why they all loved magic!  
Narcissa all but tackled Hermione to the floor, peppering kisses all over her face, in gleeful abandon, when they got it to work. She was overjoyed! The blonde healer ran off, rather abruptly, to her quarters in order to spend the rest of the evening in privacy, talking to Lene.  
Gaby was simply happy that she did not have two completely despondent witches on her hands, anymore.  
Hermione was now focused on creating a similar pair for she and Fleur, so they could charm them as soon as the Auror next arrived for her visit. The completion of the mission was the only thing that distracted the brilliant witch from the fact her heart ached, being without her mate.  
**XOXOXOXOX**  
Fleur had arrived early, to surprise her witch.  
Although she doubted her ability to surprise Hermione, at all, these days. Their connection was becoming so intense, sshe could practically feel every emotion Hermione was experiencing. That was how the talented Auror knew that Hermione was teaching some intense OWL preparations until the end of the sixth period; the psychotically methodical professor would not take kindly to her classes being interrupted, even by her mate. Fleur had learned early on that an angry Hermione is a terrifying sight to behold, and she would rather face chasing down the remaining death eaters any day of the week, instead.  
Which is why she was hiding, somewhat, in the forbidden forest, eavesdropping on her younger sister's class as opposed to her mates.  
Truthfully, she had a hard time envisioning her happy-go-lucky little sister as a Professor. While she knew Gabrielle was smart—she had excelled at Beauxbatons—it was hard to see her in a position of authority for the older sister. Her mate had told her, and Narcissa confirmed, that Gaby was pretty amazing at her job, and was by far the most well-liked. Fleur recalled their discussion.  
"Not you, ma belle?" She asked Hermione, teasing slightly. Fleur remembered the intense, library habituating, ink-stained bookworm from her brief time at Hogwarts during her own seventh year for the tournament.  
"Ah, no. I would say I'm…uh… well-respected, certainly, but well-liked?" She frowned. "Fleur, Transfiguration is not for lightweights. It's some of the most difficult magic we teach at Hogwarts. I expect respect for the material, that's all."  
Fleur nodded.  
"So, in ozzer words, you are ze School 'ard-arse, zen?" Chuckled Fleur. "Zere iz alwayz one. I'd expect no less of you, dear 'ermione."  
On the edge of the forest, she gawked at her sister, who spoke with an authoritative voice, taking her 5th years on the class practical. What on earth was she doing? Fleur wondered.  
"Students, listen up. You will all grab a pair of zes Quiddich goggles, which I 'ave modified, magically. Ze lenses will protect your eyez, and will not shatter."  
A nervous boy from Hufflepuff raised his hand. "Professor Delacour, why do we need to…um, protect our eyes?"  
"Because I imagine you would like to continue 'aving ze use of zem, after today, c'est vrai, Monsieur Appalgarth?"  
The class broke out into laughter. A girl from Ravenclaw raised her hand. "No, for real, Professor. You didn't mention these in the week's lectures leading up to the class practical today. Why do we need to protect our eyes, and why did you not mention that, Professor?" She didn't sound put out, merely curious.  
"You are correct, Panetta. I did not, on purpose, c'est vrai. Zat waz merely because I did not want Monsieur Appalgarth to lose any beauty sleep over what zeir purpose waz, should I give you too much time to ruminate on eet." She winked at the Hufflepuff, who blushed.  
In her lecturing voice, she began, holding the horseshoe of students transfixed. "Az I've mentioned zis week, Ze Bowtruckle is quite ze persnickety creature. While small in size, being a hand-sized tree dweller, eet 'as long, sharp fingers -two on each hand- and will not be afraid to use zem eef it perceives you are threatening iz 'abitat of ze Wiggenwood tree. Ze favorite target, when assaulted, iz ze eyes! Many a wizard 'as lost an eyeball, doing zat very zing, az ze Bowtruckle's home is one of the 'ighest quality treez, ideal for wandmaking. In short, zey live in….a commodity. But at quite ze price, I'd say, for anyone wiz greedy intentions!" She laughed, and the class nervously joined in.  
"So, who can tell me some techniques in which to acquire a branch, or a leaf, of zis fine tree, guarded under ze watchful eyez of ze Bowtruckle?"  
A dark haired Slytheryn raised her hand.  
"Yes, Miz Parkinson?" Professor Delacour said, expectantly, with a smile.  
"Distraction, Professor! One can use a bit of wood lice or fairy eggs as a distractor, and while the bowtruckle's attentions are elsewhere, one pinches the branch or leaf."  
"Excellent! You are just as bright az your older sister, Pansy, I zink! 10 points to Slythern."  
The girl beamed at Gaby.  
"Zat iz ze most standard practice, oui." The Care of Magical Creatures Professor grinned, mischievously. "But today, I am going to teach you something else, instead."  
The class gasped, excited. Gaby's classes were always original and there was never a dull moment- and she had record numbers of third years enrolling in her elective. The Veela thrall didn't hurt, either.  
"Non, I am going to teach you ze most important lesson of all: zere is very little zat separates you from any magical creature, really. Zey are not less, or more, zan you. Az you know, I am a magical creature, oui?" She posed.  
The class nodded affirmatively.  
"Well, 'ow would I feel, eef you came into my Professor's quarters, and just…oh, c'est quoi…say, took off ze door, and carted eet off to Gryffindor tower, just because you liked eet?" She wacked a hapless Gryffindor boy, standing closest to her, on the shoulder. "Huh? Zat's not very nice, Percival!"  
"I'm sorry, Professor….it was just really nice wood, you see…" He said, playing along.  
The class, and their professor, laughed outright.  
"You see 'ow ridiculous zat iz, correct? I would be wizout my door…for people to just stare at my gorgeous self more zan zey already do!"  
The class, even the females, laughed good naturedly.  
"...All because you thought eet okay to just take it, Percival!" She let into him, whacking him with her professor's notes, in mocking fury.  
Playing along, he put on his goggles, holding his hands up in surrender. "I promise I'll bring it back, after class, Professor!"  
"Ah! Perfect. Which leads me to my next point, class." She pointed at the Gryffindor in goggles. "You're going to do _more_ zan zat, Percival! You're going to help me make my home… **better**." She said, mysteriously, as she handed out small satchels to each students. The students pulled out nails and mallets, confused.  
"Alloys-y, students! Come! Let's learn a better method than stealing, to get what we want in life, oui?"  
**XOXOXOXOXOXO**  
As it turns out, Gaby had her students help the bowtruckles build wooden ladders. It was something they did inherently, but with only four fingers total, it was a long and laborious process. With the Hogwarts students, three students with one Bowtruckle assigned to each tree, the ladders were built by the end of the lab practical. To some of the student's initial dismay, Gaby would not let them use magic—at all. They had to work together as a team, and do manual labor to get the job done.  
Miraculously, she only had two human fingers and one Bowtruckle toe that she had to episky! back to health, from accidental trauma. She sailed amongst the trees, on her old Quiddich broom, inspecting the ongoing work. She felt so proud of her 5th year students; not a single one had tried to steal a leaf or a branch.  
"I'll give it to you, Professor. I'm surprised." Mr. Arbor, the senior bowtruckle, confessed. He was flying on Gaby's broom with her, co-inspecting. "Your humans…they're not bad. I thought you were crazy at first, but your idea….well, I admit. I was wrong."  
Grinning, Gaby chided, "Well, zat's what 'appens when one eats nozzing but wood lice all day, Monsieur!" They laughed. "But I must confess, I zought myself crazy in zee head, too! But voila! Not one tried to take anyzing….I'm, well….shocked."  
"You shouldn't be, Madame. I heard your speech earlier, Professor. I think you got the Hogwarts students thinking about things, a little differently than they ever have before, Madame."  
"Peut-etre." She mused, blowing a whistle. She yelled out a loud, "Fini, class!"  
**XOXOXOXOXOX**  
Every single ladder met the inspection standards of Mr. Arbor's watchful eye, to the cheers of the students. Then suddenly, they stopped. The tired and sweaty students, looked at Gaby, nervously. In the excitement of working as a team, and working to build a ladder with nothing more than their hands, it seems the 5th years had all forgotton to collect leaves or branches.  
Could she fail the entire class? A few wondered.  
"Class," Gabrielle began. "I 'ave never 'ad zis 'appen, in my time 'ere at Hogwarts," Gabrielle began, watch a few sinking expressions. She stopped pacing, and turned, facing the group. "I 'ave never 'ad an entire Ordinary Wizarding Level Prep class practical, ever, like zis." She paused, commanding their curious attention. "One in which every single student…. passed ze practical, on the first try."  
Gasps of relief were let out and a great deal of hollering ensued. Gaby finally silenced them, finally.  
"Ze point of zis practical waz not to obtain a branch or a leaf; no, zat would only get you an A on your OWLs, and worse, leave you wiz a pissed-off Professor!" She grinned, cheekily. "No, ze truly great student, ze one capable of an O or an E level grade, iz ze student who can see beyond ze "creature" or "human" label, and work togezzer to finish an important project, az a team." She emphasized. "Zat iz true understanding of ze magical creature,  
The class looked at each other, amazed, realizing what they had done.  
"Az such, since you gave somezing of yourselves, so willingly, your teammates 'ave somezing to give you, in return, mon brillants étudiants!"  
Gaby watched, as each of the Bowtruckles emerged, with a sack of branches and leaves for their three humans, gifting them to the uniformly startled Hogwarts students. Gaby knew how much commercial value was being given to her students, but she suspected few of these branches would end up in a wand shop, somewhere, regardless.  
Gaby and Mr. Arbor, sat back, watching the hugs and conversations between the groups; she finally broke it up when she saw a bowtruckle teaching a Slytheryn boy how to gouge out an eyeball.  
"Okay, zat's enough! Class, eet iz time to 'ead back to ze great hall, before ze Headmistress deducts so many points zat no 'ouse will win ze house cup!"  
As the group headed back in good spirits, lively conversation all around and war stories being exchanged, Gaby smiled as she started to walk back. She nearly fainted, when Fleur jumped out from behind a bush, grabbing her sister.  
"Qui a été le plus incroyable classe que j'ai jamais vu!" Gushed Fleur. "Vous êtes un enseignant fantastique, chères soeurs!"  
"Thank you, Fleur." Gaby said, modestly.  
Then, Gabrielle felt a small, two fingered grip, detaining her.  
"Pardon the interruption, Professor…this wont take long." Mr. Arbor looked nervous, his eyes going between the Hogwarts professor and her older sister. "But, uh…this is for you, from all of us."  
He held up a sapling tree, roots wrapped in moist burlap. "This is a baby Wiggenwood tree. It would be our honor if you would plant it, at Hogwart's outside your office, Professor."  
Fleur's mouth gaped open. "Merde!" She whispered.  
Gaby took it, delighted.  
The boisterous teacher grabbed the startled Mr. Arbor's cheeks, and planted a chaste kiss on him, causing the wooden like creature to actually blush.  
"I shall take good care of eet, oui?" Gaby chirped. Winking at Fleur, she added, "and I will 'ave my big bad Auror sister ward eet wiz all kinds of anti-stealing protections, so Mr. Goyle doesn't 'ave to actually make use of his learning 'ow to gouge out someone's eyes to protect eet, n'est ce pas?"  
The elder bowtruckle smiled. "I'll see you next year, then, Professor! I hope you make this an annual tradition."  
She looked indignant. "Non! Zat will not do! I will expect you to come inspect ze health of ze tree and teach my class how to take care of zis difficult zing, at least once a semester!"  
He looked shocked. "You want me? To teach wizards?"  
Gaby outright laughed. "But of course! Who elze iz better qualified zan you? I will see you next montz, Mr. Arbor, at Hogwarts!" Ignoring his shocked smile, she teased, "and 'opefully I can expand your taste buds beyond zat disgusting wood lice…say, firewhiskey?" She winked.  
"Fair enough, Professor. You have a deal! You know, Madame Delacour, you're not bad…for a human."  
She looked at him, and sniffed, indignantly. "Pardonnez-moi, Monsieur Arbor! I am no human! I, sir, am…Veela!" She said, dramatically. "Au Revoir!" She finished, with a dramatic wave, and blowing him an air kiss.  
She turned, grabbing Fleur's elbow with one hand, holding her rare gift in the other, walking forward. As they headed back behind the students towards the castle, Fleur couldn't help but to be astounded at how talented her younger sister truly had become.  
Fleur smiled, proudly.  
**XOXOXOXO**  
Fleur and Gaby arrived outside the castle gates, and all of a sudden, Fleur's face was ashen.  
"Gaby…" she said, weakly.  
"Oui, Fleur? Fleur!" Gaby's face registered her instant alarm. "Mon Dieu, Fleur, what iz ze matter?" She said, grasping her sister, who looked for all practical purposes like she could fall out at any moment.  
"Gabrielle…merde! I cannot…." Her voice was growing panicky, "I cannot feel 'er, Gaby!"  
"Feel what? Ohhhh!" The Care of Magical Creatures professor realized what she meant, her eyes widening. She suggested, "Maybe she iz, je ne sais pas…napping? Maybe she iz just asleep?"  
Fleur shook her head, vehemently, her eyes darkening.  
"Non! I can always feel 'er, eef we are in close proximity…awake, asleep, eet doez not matter!" Fleur was growing increasingly alarmed as they got closer to the castle. "Somezing 'as 'appened!" She closed her eyes, as though to apparate.  
Gaby touched her sister's arm, tentatively. "Ma cher, you know…you know zat one cannot apparate, on ze grounds of 'ogwarts School." She reminded the former Triwizard Champion, gently.  
Fleur wrenched her arm from Gaby's grip, eyes beginning to teeter on feral. The Veela was breathing heavily. "Putain de bordel, Gaby! Zees ees why I 'ate ze English! So fucking impractical, on important zings!"  
Gaby grew more alarmed, as she saw Fleur's fingers beginning to lengthen, into talons.  
"Stop, now, Fleur!" Commanded Gaby, in her Professor's voice. "Do not jump to conclusions, until you 'ave ze facts! Go to 'ermione's quarters. I'm sure zere is a logical explination, sister-"  
Fleur interrupted her sister, highly agitated. "Fuck ze "facts," Gaby! Waiting for 'Ze Facts' gives someone like a fucking deatzeater time…zen wham! Zey 'it you wiz an unforgivable."  
She bolted off, in a dead sprint, running straight for the castle. Passing the mass of Gaby's returning Hogwarts students with a whizzing noise as she sped past, they marveled, oblivious.  
"Wow, she's really fast!" Remarked one Hufflepuff, to the murmered agreements of his cohort. Unconcerned, he turned back to his group, as they downed an entire bag of Fizzing Whizzbees into their mouths, as they continued to walk. A few of the more intuitive students looked back at their professor, concern on their faces.  
Professor Delacour looked skyward, and sighed.  
She gripped the tree in her hand, tightly, muttering, "C'est le bordel!" Inhaling, Gaby hoped the Transfiguration professor was okay, and that Fleur was just being psychotically overprotective.  
However, she knew her sister.  
Moreover, she knew her best friend….  
Given that knowledge, Gaby grimaced, and she quickly sprung into action. Shouting at the group in front of her, she recalled a few of specific students. Immediately responding, the three ran over to her, looking concerned.  
"Yes, professor?" They asked, breathlessly.  
"I 'ave a favor to ask, of ze zree of you…and I would greatly appreciate eet eef you could 'elp me out, s'il vous plait…."  
"Of course, professor!" They all nodded.  
Gaby instructed Parkinson and Jones to take the Wiggenwood sapling straight to either Professor Sprout or Assistant Professor Longbottom, and no one else. She told them to inform the Herbology professors that she would explain it, later, but to just keep the roots moist, in the interim. Looking serious, she instructed them to do it themselves in the greenhouse if they couldn't find either, and she would eventually be there to relieve them if the Herbologists hadn't already.  
She then instructed Percival the Gryffindor to go find Headmistress McGonagall, likely in her office at the moment, and request her to bring Healer Black then to meet Professor Delacour upstairs, at the Professor's chambers.  
They looked at her, dumbstruck.  
Gaby herself was now getting agitated, and she willed her talons to stop lengthening her fingers.  
She looked at her students. "Tell no one what's going on." She looked at them. "Well? What are you waiting for? I'm not going to get any more gorgeous zan I already am!" They laughed.  
Gaby pointed. "Students….Tout Suite!"  
"Yes, professor!" They all agreed, running off in unison, not realizing the oddity of a Slythern, a Hufflepuff, and a Gryffindor all working together, as ordered. It's just what students did, without question, if Professor Delacour asked it of them.  
She watched the determined students race past their classmates.  
"No time, mate!" Percival shouted at someone, as he ignored them sprinting off towards the Headmistress office.  
"Foutre!" Gaby said, frustrated. Then, graced with her unyielding Veela genes, she herself took off at a breakneck pace. Gabrielle rocketed past, running a path very similar to the one her older sister had just travered, moments prior.  
As Gaby neared the castle, she scanned the exterior one last time, attempting to detect anything amiss.  
She saw nothing.  
A quick Veela revealing charm detected nothing, either. She hoped that it was all a weird misunderstanding.  
But a gnawing was growing inside Gaby's stomach. Every since she was little, she had always been taught a Veela never loses their "proximity touch" with their mate.  
It would be so unlike her best friend whom she saw nearly every single day to leave the Hogwarts Grounds, without telling anyone. Specifically, Gaby. This realization caused the youngest Delacour Veela to frowned, unsatisified.  
Where the hell was Hermione?  
**TBC-**  
(Yes, bloody hell, it's an _angsty friggin' cliffhanger!_ Just checking if everyone's awake, out there.)


	11. Hermione Lost, Hermione Found

**Chapter 11: Hermione Lost, Hermione Found**

_Where was Hermione Granger?_  
This was one of the few benefits of surviving a war… one knew what to do, in situations like this.  
The witches immediately deployed into action: Narcissa paced the grounds around Hogwarts, looking for anything suspicious; Minerva searched the inner physical plant of the Castle, by virtue of the fact her familiarity of it was better than anyone else's; Fleur, for her part, quickly broke through the wards on Hermione's quarters, the skilled Auror searching for clues, of any type, as to where her witch could have gone; and finally, Gaby was methodically interrogating every ghost and professor she could locate, determining if they had seen Hermione.  
All came up empty handed.  
Once they reconnoitered, realizing they had no practical leads, Fleur quickly escalated in panic. The Veela was practically vibrating with anger and fear.  
Where. Was. Her. Witch?  
The other three women, gathered in Hermione's quarters, all looked at each other, nervously. Action needed to be taken, and soon, in order to prevent Fleur's immanent meltdown.  
Speaking first, Narcissa volunteered to go down to Hogsmeade, to see if she could locate any trace of Hermione, in the main throughfare. Following the healer's lead, Minerva offered to delve deeper into parts of the Castle that previously been forgotten, or were no longer occupied or of common usage, at present. Gaby and Fleur, all of the women agreed, should remain within Hermione's quarters. They had turned the missing professor's quarters into a de facto headquarters.  
The two sisters would subsequently cull through the room once again, searching for any clues potentially missed on the first pass, while simultaneously coordinating the Intel acquired by the other witches.  
The healer and Headmistress departed for their tasks, giving Fleur a nod, while offering a reassuring expression.  
Fleur grimaced and began pacing, while Gaby searched the room, again.  
 **XOXOXOX**  
Minerva had braved several frightening rooms, true to her Gryffindor backbone. The headmistress searched, sneezing several times, and frowned, still empty handed.  
Only her favorite student could get her involved in shenanigans such as this… engaged in this bizarre Veela manhunt, when she had so much work piling up in her office!  
As she continued to clear long forgotten spells from creaky old rooms, she encountered little else besides insects. She made a note to herself this could be the staff's project, this summer. While going through the efforts of unearthing each room, she thought of her favorite student, hoping upon all hopes that nothing had truly befallen her. Frowning, the headmistress thought, She deserves some happiness, for Merlin's sakes! After all that poor girl's been through- it just doesn't seem fair!  
In her musings, Minerva recalled a memory, previously forgotten. It was of an exchange she had shared with the woman in question, recently. The memory was from a time when the Transfiguration professor had returned to Hogwarts, just recently, from her trip to France.  
Her former student had popped into her office, unannounced, a rosy flush in her cheeks. Minerva paused, as she remembered the memory, fondly:  
Grinning from ear to ear, Hermione asked, "Minerva, could we, well, uh. Could we talk for a spell, in private?  
The younger Gryffindor looked as though she might burst.  
Minerva offered an amused smile. "Of course, my dear Hermione! Join me in my office, for some tea, after your first class is complete?" Minerva suggested.  
She felt such strong affection for Hermione, and was beyond thrilled that she finally returned to her rightful post, back at Hogwarts. Minerva felt that the young woman had given up so much to save the Wizarding World; she felt duty bound to ensure the younger woman's future happiness, and fully admitted her awfully overprotective streak, when it came to Hermione.  
When tea time arrived, Hermione confessed, blushing like a ripe tomato, that she had fallen head over heels in love, with none other than Ms. Fleur Delacour!  
"The former Tri-Wizard Champion?" She clarified.  
"Yes, Minerva. That Fleur."  
"The same one that has stayed in your chambers for 12 out of the last 13 evenings prior to your trip to France?"  
Hermione's mouth fell agape. "Uh…."  
Minerva smiled, amused. Of course the sharp headmistress was not that surprised; after all, she knew everything that happened inside her Castle walls. She just chose not to always mention or act on her knowledge.  
But she always knew, make no mistake.  
The headmistress placed a reassuring hand on the embarrassed professor's knee, chuckling. "Oh, my dear Hermione, I was once young….and in love….and eventually married! I understand these things, Hermione, I do. There's no need for any embarrassment. Frankly, I'm honored that you came to tell me your story, in person!"  
That opened the floodgates, for the younger woman. She began rambling, gushing, about the progression of their mating as it unfolded, much of it in this very castle. The amused headmistress had never seen Hermione as happy as she was, before, as she rattled on, enamored. She talked about Fleur and how she felt like her life had finally come into its own. Things had clicked for her, how wonderful she was, and how she finally felt like she joined the family that she always dreamed of.  
Minerva came back to her unpleasant reality, as a rather large rat ran across her shoe. Hermione was finally happy, Minerva realized.  
She wouldn't leave, without cause…or being forced to do so! Thought Minerva.  
As the wise witch realized this, and her resulting subsequent speculations left her frowning. It would be uncharacteristic for the former war veteran to just up and disappear, without notifying someone of her whereabouts. They had learned that necessity in the war, after all. It wouldn't be like the Hermione she knew to inform no one that she would be leaving the grounds, which is why the Headmistress entertained the concern (bordering on hysteria) that Fleur was experiencing.  
Minerva frowned, again.  
Fortunately, the cooler heads that were not Fleur Delacour had prevailed, and the other three were able to still infuse some sanity into the missing person hunt. They agreed that while the four were separated from one another, had all mutually understanding they would launch a patronus to one another, in the event they gleaned anything useful regarding Hermione's whereabouts.  
Minerva hoped the others were faring better than she.  
If something has happened to Hermione, the Headmistress thought to herself, Merlin help the witch or wizard responsible, from the full wrath of Fleur Isabelle Delacour….  
She went back to clearing the next forgotten room, her efforts renewed.  
 **XOXOXOXXO**  
Gaby and Fleur continued to turn Hermione's quarters upside down looking for clues.  
It had been exhausting for the younger Veela. At one point, Fleur was actually planning on sending a floo to the Ministry to enlist Tonks, and a few other Aurors, on the case! Gaby, thank Merlin, had stopped that lunacy. Gaby cautiously reminded her sister that Hermione had been missing for less than one hour, and that Tonks was probably pretty busy.  
Fleur looked at her, incredulously.  
"What? Why are you looking at me, like zat?" Asked Gaby. "Fleur, don't you consider it not a 'missing persons' case, until zey 'ave been gone for 24 'ours, soeur? Didn't you tell me zat, before?"  
Fleur frowned at the logical reasoning.  
"Shut eet," she snapped at Gaby.  
Gabrielle sighed. "I'm just saying…let'z see what we turn up, first, okay? Eef no 'ermione, zen I promise you can contact Auror Tonks, n'est-ce pas?"  
Fleur huffed. "Bah! I give zis 3 hours, Gabrielle," she said, pointedly. She held up three fingers in the air, as though this point needed illustration. "Trois! Zat's eet! Zen, I am mobilizing ze Ministry!"  
Gaby sighed. "Okay, Fleur."  
In addition to being the only rational one in the room, a position she was wholly unfamiliar with, Gaby had had to repeatedly prevent her older sister's near transformation into her full Veela form. She was finally successful in stopping Fleur's transformation into "Assault Veela" only by using the rationale that Fleur needed to remain human, in order to focus on her connection with Hermione. She had shrewdly argued that without Fleur's connection, they had nothing that linked them to the missing English witch.  
It had worked, for the moment.  
That moment evaporated, however, after the next ten minutes elapsed of Fleur's pacing and Gaby's methodical searching. The younger happened to glance up, and saw Fleur with a handful of floo power, held aloft, ready to chuck into the fireplace.  
Gabrielle gasped. "Fleur! L'arrêter, dès maintenant !"  
Grabbing her away from the fireplace, she demanded to know what Fleur had intended, and talk her off that ledge, as well. Gaby had narrowly managed to avert Fleur's hostile takeover of Harry's living room, apparently. Fleur had planned on seizing Harry's Marauder's Map and possibly the Boy-Who-Lived, as well, to operate said map.  
Fleur looked at her shocked sister. "What, Gaby? 'arry 'as ze map, zat's fact! Eef 'e was any kind of a 'best friend,' as 'e claims, 'e would be 'appy to come 'elp find 'is wounded commrade, 'ermione!" Fleur's face looked suddenly angry. "She kept 'im alive, for fuck's sakes, for years! Eets ze least 'e can do for 'er!" She growled at her increasingly alarmed sister.  
Gaby smacked her palm to her forehead, wondering how she ended up the responsible one of the pair, all of a sudden.  
"Mon Dieu….Fleur! Stop! Stop eet, zis instant! 'arry Potter iz not ze enemy, Fleur. 'E iz not responsible for 'er going missing!"  
"Zat we know of…"  
"Merde!" Gaby yelled. The younger Veela wanted to positively scream at her older sister, for being such a lunatic. She wanted to yell at Fleur, telling her needed to really get her shit together, as she was royally embarrassing herself; but she couldn't.  
Instead, she filtered her thoughts, and put herself in Fleur's position. As a fellow Veela, she could only imagine the heartbreak and angst Fleur must be feeling in this moment. As such, the Care of Magical Creatures Professor opted for a different tact with her distraught sister.  
Gaby touched her, gently. She rubbed her hands on her sister's arms, and looked in her wild eyes, with a deep understanding, completely free of any condescension or pity.  
"Look, Fleur… I understand zat you are worried about 'ermione…" Gaby began, forcing the conversation to calm down a notch.  
"I promise, Fleur…I am too…worried, zat iz. Worried, az well. But, Fleur? Zis? _All zis?_ " She waved her arms, circling around Fleur's person. "C'est absolument fou! Totally crazy! Sis, you are being ze 'isterical! To what end, Fleur? Why are you doing zis…acting like zis? _Why_?"  
She pinched her nose, thinking how to next approach her emotional sister.  
"Look, Fleur… remember, you are an Auror!" She reminded the blonde. "So, zink like an Auror!" Gaby suggested, her tone a bit harsher than she intended.  
Understandably, Gabrielle had almost lost it, herself, watching her sister unravel in front of her, and being the sole person to deal with her collateral damage.  
Tears brimmed in Fleur's eyes as she took in Gaby's impassioned plea, and she stopped pacing. She cocked her head slightly, and didn't quite meet her gaze.  
She spoke with a voice completely weighted down by utter sorrow, and so unlike the confident woman she actually was.  
"I know, I know… Je sais, Gabrielle!" Fleur looked pitiful, as she ran her hand through her disheveled blonde hair. "Eet's just…I feel like I am breaking in two, Gabrielle! I am trying so 'ard to control my emotions, but I cannot… I cannot be wizout her! Eef somezing 'appened…. I will die, eef anyzing 'appens to 'er!"  
She paused, trying to collect herself.  
She held up her hand to Gaby, when Gaby tried to offer reassurance.  
"Don't try to make me feel better, now, Gaby…just don't. Don't promise she'll be okay, because you don't know zat…and neizzer do I!"  
Fleur sighed, and Gaby nodded, in understanding. She opened her mouth, as though to say something, then shut it.  
Fleur looked at her sister, the haunted look breaking the younger Veela's own heart. She hated feeling so helpless.  
Fleur finally spoke once again, but in a more reserved tone, this time. "Before you zay eet…what I know iz on ze tip of your tongue…don't zay zat 'Eet iz because I am a Veela', zat I feel zis way! Know zis, sister….eet iz not because I am Veela, Gaby! Ze reason, ze only reason, I feel so ruined, right now… iz because I truly love 'er, zat much."  
She looked at Gabrielle with the most devastating of expressions, as she concluded, "…my 'eart will break, absolutely shatter…wizout 'er, Gaby. Zat iz all. Zat iz ze only reason… eet 'az nozzing to do wiz ze fact zat I am a Veela, actually. I would feel exactly ze same, even eef I wazn't…"  
Fleur had attempted to calmly explain her feelings, with little success at remaining calm. Her hands began to tremble, and her lip quivered. Her heartfelt confession seemed to be the final piece left, tipping her over the precipice.  
Her heartfelt confession forced thoughts of a possible life without Hermione to the forefront of her mind. Those unwanted thoughts finally undid the distraught woman.  
Gaby watched, in nervous anticipation, as her big sister appeared poised to have her final unavoidable meltdown.  
Fleur's eyes began to morph from dark blue to red. Her fingers were starting to elongate, and as Gaby braced herself, all of a sudden, Fleur's eyes turned back to cerulean blue, once again!  
Gaby opened one eye, regarding her sister. "Fleur?"  
She looked upon her human sister, and not the fierce Veela, much to her surprise.  
"Wait!" Fleur gasped. "Wait! I feel…different."  
The Auror looked genuinely perplexed, looking at her body, before she turned to look at her sister, who had an equally confused look on her face as well.  
"I feel…something." Fleur offered, very non-specifically.  
"Zat's helpful…" Gaby said, sarcastically.  
A noise in Hermione's room startled the two sisters. They fumbled for their wands quickly, hearing loud clattering, and things falling to the ground from within. The two blonde witches looked at each other silently, nodding, and immediately drew their wands, poised and ready for attack. They each found cover behind furnature, and kept their eyes level on the door.  
As the door flew open, both witches gripped their wands, prepared to curse the intruder, or intruders.  
They both screamed, simultaneously, as the door swung open; their wands dropped to the floor.  
The intruder was none other than Hermione Jean Granger… in the flesh!  
Hermione Granger, missing person, burst into the room, having returned to her quarters, with an oblivious grin on her face!  
The Veela both stared at her, dumbstruck, wand arms frozen in place, wands clattering on the floor. Hermione, for her part, had continued walking until something the noise of the falling wands caught her attention and she looked up, startled, realizing there were others unexpectedly in her home!  
She instinctively screamed, but with her battle reflexes, she also simultaneously drew her wand, ripping off a Protego! shield, immediately.  
Shield up, she surveyed the room, and then realized the identity of the "perpetrators." Fleur and Gaby, poised to attack, were gaping at her, in her own living room, looking like statues.  
"Bloody fucking hell! Fleur? Gaby? What the hell are you two doing?" She lowered the protection spell. "Merlin's beard, you two scared the willy out of me! Warn a person, you're here, in the future! Geez…I could have accidently hexed you both!"  
For all practical purposes, Hermione looked completely unaware of the upheaval on her behalf that had occurred at Hogwarts in the hour prior.  
They said nothing, just staring at her speechless.  
While they were acting somewhat odd, it did not prevent the Golden Girl from having the audacity to appear excited, to see Fleur!  
Smiling broadly, she exclaimed, "Fleur! Fleur, you're here!"  
Hermione squealed, and ran over, to throwing herself at her witch. She then attempted to kiss the shellshocked Veela, still oblivious to her previous dispair. Hermione was obviously feeling desperately happy, unaware of the chaos that had transpired previously, on her behalf.  
At that moment, she releaized Fleur wasn't kissing her back.  
Hermione looked at her, confused. She then looked around, in general…and the Golden Girl noticed a few… things.  
First, Fleur's hands were not her hands, they were talons. She had little feathers gracing her arms and her face looked slightly less…Fleur-like…than she was used to seeing.  
Secondly, Gaby looked totally bedraggled, as well.  
Finally, with the growing tension in the room, Hermione looked around. Her room looked like a tornado had been through her quarters. Shelves were emptied, her desk drawers upside down, and the whole place ransacked.  
Her eyes widened. "What happened here?" She asked.  
"What? What happened here?" Fleur asked, incredulously. "Damn eet, 'ermione! Where were you?!" Fleur was shouting, crying, and shaking all at the same time.  
Hermione's arms flew around the Veela's neck.  
"Fleur, what's wrong, Baby? " She dotted Fleur's cheeks with dozen of kisses, worried. "Oh no, Fleur…what's wrong? Are you okay?" Hermione asked, perplexed.  
Her witch was out of sorts like she had never seen her.  
Fleur's crying only increased, and she gripped the confused Englishwoman, and she was hanging onto Hermione for dear life, without actually answering her questions. Fleur was struggling to speak, half sobbing, half muttering French, English and Veela indiscriminately, all of which answered nothing for Hermione.  
Hermione cast a questioning gaze towards the other frazzled person in the room.  
At this point, Gaby decided she best step in. Ignoring Hermione's confused look, Gaby quickly cast two Patronus charms to alert both Narcissa and Minerva that the lost girl was now the found girl, and Hermione had returned and was apparently fine.  
Hermione had a puzzled expression on her face as she watched Gaby, but was unable to move, due to the death grip Fleur had around her.  
"Gaby?" She mumbled, within the depths of the vise grip.  
In spite of her emotional exhaustion, Gaby couldn't help but laugh at the sight. She felt it time to explain the situation to the confused Gryffindor.  
"'Ermione, pleaze let me try to explain," Gaby said, chuckling slightly. "You see, Fleur arrived today, to surprise you! When she arrived, as she always doez, she felt your presenze, from your bond….she knew you were teaching, and didn't want to disturb your classes. So zen, she decided to join me, for my class practical since eet was more informal, razer zan interrupting you." Fleur had said nothing, still just clutching onto Hermione for dear life. Hermione attempted to nod, with the limited mobility she had at the moment.  
Gaby continued explaining. "Fleur knows 'ow…focused…you are when you teach, non? After class, we were walking back to ze Castle, she suddently couldn't "feel" you, anymore. She felt you… disappear! Since she could not feel your prezence anymore… well, you can imagine, she…. 'ow do you say eet? Freaked out. She has almost transformed seven timez, and I've 'ad to stop 'er from sending out a team of Aurors to find you, az well az 'arrassing 'arry Potter!" Gaby explained as Fleur continued to clutch her missing witch.  
"I see." The muffled voice of Hermione answered.  
After a full five minutes, Fleur finally calmed, and loosened her grip lightly.  
Finding her voice, Fleur started, "I waz more scared zan I have ever been in ma life 'Ermione! What happened?"  
Hermione looked shocked.  
Fleur's voice grew in volume. "Hermione! I zought somezing was wrong, somezing bad 'ad 'appended to you! Do you know 'ow I felt? I felt like my 'eart was ripped out of my chest. Where 'ave you been?"  
"Oh my Gods! Fleur, I'm so sorry!" At this point, Hermione was crying as well.  
Gaby had inched out of the room, slightly, awaiting Narcissa and Minvera's return, hoping to give the two demented women some privacy. She heard Hermione explaining, "I had to pick something up in Muggle London! I knew I would only be gone a short time in between my classes, and while I would normally mention it to your sister, I knew Gaby was teaching at that time!"  
Gaby heard kisses.  
"Oh Fleur, I figured I would just quickly apparate to London and be back before anyone realized I was gone! I had no idea! None! I had no idea that you would be arriving today…. I would have never left had I known."  
More kisses.  
"I'm so very sorry Fleur, for worrying you! I just wanted to surprise you with something that I could only get, in Muggle London…" her voice trailed off.  
"Gaby," Hermione called, forcing the younger professor to return back into the room, to look at her entagled sister and best friend.  
"Yes, 'ermione?" she replied, to her soon to be sister-in-law.  
"To whom did you send those Patronuses?"  
Gaby tried to avert her eyes, as Fleur's hands were now seeking reassurance that it was indeed Hermione, in the flesh.  
"Oui, well, uh….zat. Yes. Well, Minerva iz searching ze grounds, and uh…. Cissy went to Hogsmeade, looking for you." She twitched, nerviously, as she explained. "We 'ad agreed to send ze Patronus eef we 'ad any information az to where you might be." Gaby explained.  
Hermione looked shocked.  
"Oh Fleur… Gaby…." She looked between the two women, apologetically. "I'm so sorry that I scared you both, so much!" She shook her head, in disbelief.  
Looking around her torn-up quarters, she mused, "But, wow! Merlin's beard…this seems like….um, well, quite an extreme reaction, one would think, to a mere thirty minute shopping trip..."  
Both Minerva and Cissy bust into Hermione's room, breathless, looking around wildly.  
Their eyes landed on Hermione, swaddled within Fleur's possessive grasp, and rushed over to hug her, both older women clearly emotional.  
They layered on top of Fleur's arms, hugging Hermione, and clucking over her. Hermione was quite uncomfortable being the center of such a large to-do, and she quietly explained what had happened, to the newly arrived pair, assuring them she was fine. She followed up with with several effusive apologies.  
After a stern look and a few words from the Headmistress, Hermione promised to never leave Hogwarts again without telling anyone. Apparently unsatisified, Minerva then rounded on the other Hogwarts faculity, and made both Narcissa and Gaby, as well, promise they would do the same, for good measure.  
"Well, crisis averted," Minerva said, matter of factly, as she straighted her hat. "If its alright with everyone present, I must take my leave. I do actually have a school to run, you know."  
She left, muttering to herself about the inconsideration of people leaving and scaring everyone to death…  
Hermione blushed further. Cissy looked at her, and smiled. The healer was mostly relieved, and after one final kiss to the only part of Hermione exposed underneath Fleur's arms, she rushed off to go contact Lene, via her new compact.  
She explained she need to promptly reassure her, since she was panicing from afar regarding Hermione's whereabouts, and had to be restrained by the house elves from coming and joining in.  
Even though the other girls could not see her, due to the connection being limited between the two mates, they could still hear Apolline's audible relief.  
Narcissa, rejoining the group, explained to the women via Apolliene's insights, that this frenzy was due to the Veela bond, and unfortunately, this connection and intense love was not something they ever should expect to lessen.  
Hermione and Gaby exchanged a look, as Fleur gripped her yet tighter.  
Such is the destined and passionate life one should expect as a Veela mate pair, apparently, Narcissa had relayed, amused.  
After several hugs, the blondes decided to let Hermione and Fleur have some much needed "alone time," and decided to have an after-action-review session in Narcissa's quarters, likely with several bottles of wine.  
 **XOXOXOXOXOXO**  
It took some time for the mates to find a rhythm immediately, as Fleur had some difficulty releasing Hermione from her grasp.  
Finally alone in Hermione's quarters, the former missing person gently suggested they move to someplace more comfortable other than the wooden floor, which finally caused the arms to relax.  
Fleur released Hermione, stood up, and pulled her to a stand, as well. She looked at Hermione, without saying a word. She then unceremoniously hoised her up, over her shoulder, and marched her into Hermione's bedroom. Giggling, they barely made it to the bed and collapsed in a heap, embracing one another tightly, once Fleur put her down.  
Fleur was exhausted from the emotional energy spent worrying about Hermione, and Hermione was a little scared at how extreme her reaction had been. However, knowing if she had experienced anything similar, she was sure that no one would have been able to rationalize or calm her down, in the converse.  
She hummed, stroking Fleur, gently, and lulled the crazed woman into dozing off.  
After finally getting Fleur to sleep, Hermione held her, until the older witch slowly roused, awake.  
Her eyes fluttered open.  
"You are safe, ma belle?" she asked, groggily.  
"Yes, Fleur."  
"And you must never do zat again!  
"Yes, Fleur."  
"I meen eet! I don't zink my 'eart could take another scare like zee one I 'ad today!" Fleur's face looked a tad petulant. "I realize now, zat zee way I reacted…. could 'ave been, well, a leettle extreme, but…. 'Ermione, you are my world! I couldn't feel you….our connection… and zat made me so scared!"  
Hermione said nothing at first, just offering the condolence of her physical proximity, as she stroked her alarmed witch. She kissed the side of Fleur's temple.  
In a soft, quiet voice, she said, "Fleur, I love you too. You, too, are my world." She kissed her again, feeling Fleur's physical relief. "Now, Fleur…. I do have a little surprise for you, love. Something that I think will make this a little easier…for both of us, rather."  
"Oui?"  
"Yes!" Hermione nodded.  
"Well, what eez it?" Fleur asked, a hint of excitement back in her voice, the fatigue now draining away.  
Hermione smiled, noting Fleur's improvement. "Well, did you see how Cissy contacted your Maman today? How she was able to just speak, with her? No fireplace, Fleur!"  
Fleur's eyes were shocked, just now realizing that amazing fact.  
"Wow…"  
"Indeed! So Fleur, that compact that Cissy was holding, was something I created for just us, the bonded mates! For you and I, and Cissy and your Maman!"  
Her voice was becoming excited, as it did, when she was explaining something intellectually challenging. "It works like a window, basically, in which we can 'see' each other, and talk to one another, regardless of distance! We will both have our own compacts that we should keep on us at all times."  
She held her prototype out, showing the blonde.  
"If you call for me, I will feel the compact warm up and a wave of pleasure roll over my body. Next, I should hear your voice whisper my name in my ear. That's my cue to open my compact, and voila! You will be there, and we can talk!"  
"Really, ma belle? Are you serious?!" Fleur was flabbergasted. "'Ow did you do zis? You are a genius, 'Ermione Jean Granger!"  
"Oh Fleur, stop!" Hermione said, typically modest. "I'm nothing of the sort. I am merely motivated by my love, for you. Actually, your Maman and I, we worked on it, together!"  
Now Fleur looked really shocked.  
Hermione laughed, explaining. "It required some Veela blood magic in order to charm them, and fashion them to be specific for each other, you see. Your Maman and I came up with the charm we used, between the two of us, ourselves!" Hermione was becoming excited, again, as she gushed, "She is a very smart lady, your Maman!"  
Fleur just grinned, thrilled her Maman and her future wife were getting on so well.  
"Well, I want to try zem! Maintenant!" She stood excited.  
XOXOXOXXOX  
Fleur could barely contain her excitement; she was like a kid in a candy shop.  
She had them performed the small ritual necessary to make the compacts proprietary, and then clutched it like it was a bag of gold.  
"What next?" She asked Hermione, breathlessly.  
"We try them out!"  
"Ah, oui!"  
Fleur, delighted, ran into the kitchenette to test their new toy. It worked brilliantly. Hermione was "thanked properly" in the form of Fleur tackling her on the bed, and kissing her until both were breathless and dazed.  
XOXOXXOX  
"Zo ma belle." Fleur began, as they cuddled together on the bed, undressed. "I know zat we are going to see your parents zis weekend, oui? Are zey … expecting us?"  
"Yes, Fleur." Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Well, that is to say…they know that I am coming by on Saturday, and that I'm bringing someone I'd like them to meet."  
"Oui."  
Fleur kissed her, and grinned. "So, I waz zinking that zat instead of spending zee weekend 'ere, at 'ogwarts…may I suggest somezing else?"  
"Like what?"  
Fleur grinned, her dazzling grin finally back on her face. "Well, more like zat I could wisk you away, to my flat in London, ma belle. I zought you could see my 'ome 'ere, in England, and maybe we could spend zee weekend in bed, n'est-ce pas?" She suggested, wiggling her eyebrows at her witch.  
"Ohhh, Fleur!" Hermione grinned. " That sounds perfect!" Hermione agreed, wiggling her eyebrows right back at her Veela. "Can we leave after my classes end, tomorrow?"  
   
 **XOXOXOXOXOXO**

The next morning, the quartet had breakfast together in Narcissa's quarters.  
While all enjoyed being together again, it was evident by her parsimonious replies and faint smiles failing to reach her eyes, that Cissy was not totally herself.  
Narcissa missed Lene quite profoundly, but being surrounded by "her girls" helped, somewhat.  
Hermione cast a sympathetic look in her direction, and tried to keep the conversation flowing. She explained her and Fleur's plans, for the weekend; they planned on jaunting off to London, and then on to muggle England, to the region of Gloucestershire, for the purpose of visiting Chez Granger.  
Gaby, hearing the detailed plans for the first time along with Narcissa, raised her eyebrows, and looked at Fleur, pointedly.  
"Zis will not do. Not at all!" She huffed.  
"Qu'est-que C'est?" Fleur asked, puzzled.  
She looked at Fleur, in disbelief. "Quoi? Are you really asking me, zis, sister?" Gaby then glared at Hermione and Narcissa, in tandem. "I spend 'ourz of my life…'ourz! La Vache! Literally, 'ourz zat I will never get back, I should add, dealing wiz my mentally deranged sister and 'er all points bulleeten to ze entire wizarding world to find ze lost beloved national treasure of 'er royal Goldenness, and now zat she's finally sane again, because eet turnz out zat 'er Goldenness was just out shopping, wizout telling me for ze first time in…oh, I don't know…oh, zat's right…" She glared at Hermione, "…ever! Now zey decide…oh, by ze way, we're leaving, and sorry for ze post tramautic stressfully disorderz we gave you, n'est-ce pas?" Gaby ranted, incredulously.  
Naricissa was holding a napkin, demurely, to her mouth, to disguise her giggling. Fleur's mouth, in contrast, hung open, as she gaped at her sister throughout her rant.  
"So, as I surmise, Gabrielle," Hermione said, as she finished chewing her croissant, "is that you would, perhaps, like some quality time, of a less stressful nature, with your older sister before she departs Hogwarts, correct?"  
Gabrielle pointed at Hermione, squealing "Ça y est! Yes, you got eet. Non-crazy time, why? Because I'm worth eet!"  
She got up, doing an impromptu dance around Fleur's chair, singing how she was worth it, hip bumping her eye-rolling sister.  
"Fine." Fleur relented.  
"I have a break during ze second and fortz period classes, and I know for a fact 'ermione iz teaching zen, so you will be wiz me, making up and thoughily kizzing my arse, sister!"  
"What?"  
Gaby widened her eyes, and pursed her lips. "Need I remind you, sister, you stood in front of a fireplace, floo power 'eld in your 'and, ready to—"  
Fleur, embarrassed, quickly cut her off. "Okay, okay, ca suffit, Gaby!" She shook her head. "I will meet you in your quarterz, zen?"  
Gaby, noting a almost impreceptable shake of Hermione's head, "no," quickly said, "Euh, mais non…come to ze Magical Creatures classroom….uh, my class will probally run over, so meet me zere, ca va?"  
"Fine! I will see you, zere, zen. Now, if my little sister's 'ysterics are over, I will excuse myself, to Narcissa's Salle de bains , eef zat is okay?"  
Narcissa waived her hand. "My loo is your loo, Fleur."  
Gaby refused to meet her eyes as she got up to go to the bathroom, instead sighing loudly, crossing her arms.  
Once Fleur was out of earshot, she leaned over to Hermione. "Well? 'ow waz zat?"  
Hermione said, "Uh…"  
"A bit on the theatrical side, Gabrielle." Narcissa answered for her. "But, rather effective, dear. I don't think Fleur is the wiser."  
Gaby grinned, grabbing the fruit. "Bien sur, for I am an excellent actress. And, your diversion, Mademoiselle Granger! Enjoy your task, between ze periods, GG…I will keep ze crazy lady busy."  
Narcissa took a sip of coffee. "And, I dare say, thank you for keeping us in the loop, this time, Hermione! Have fun doing your 'task,' but for Merlin's sake, don't be late!"  
"Thank you both for the help, distracting Fleur! I had hoped to get this done last night before she got here, but well, the early arrival, and all…"  
Gaby waved it off. "Zink nozzing of eet, 'ermione."  
"Nozzing of what?" Fleur asked, returning to the table.  
Hermione covered spontaneously, "Gaby, here, was just telling me to 'stop zis crazy worrying so much about causing ze commotion!' yesterday."  
"You worry too much, beautiful one," she said, kissing her on the lips, with a tender smile.  
Hermione, breaking from the kiss, emerged dreamy-eyed and blushing; she was devotedly gazing at Fleur. Narcissa's voice, from behind where she was holding up the Daily Prophet, issued from behind the paper, "Hermione, dear, I'd vomit…if you weren't so bloody adorable."  
"Mmm," Chimed in Gaby. "I zink I'll just opt for ze vomit."  
The four finally concluded their breakfast, with Fleur and Hermione agreeing to meet up after lunch. They decided they would pack and gather all their things for both trips, loading up Hermione's ugly beaded bag prior to the two's departure to Fleur's flat, in London, for the weekend.  
XOXOXOXXOXO  
The morning passed by quickly, Gaby and Fleur actually enjoying their 'sister time' together.  
Gaby took her as far from Hogwarts as possible, so Fleur wouldn't question if for some reason she didn't feel the physical connection to Hermione palpating in her chest.  
They stood at the brook on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and Fleur thought it the perfect opportunity to press Gaby a little further regarding her past behavior. When she brought up the subject, regarding how unhappy she clearly appeared, in France, Gaby remained stoic, dismissing her questions, altogether. She still would still not budge.  
Clearly, she was uncomfortable discussing the matter, instead pestering Fleur about her wedding details. The younger Delacour rattled off rhetorical questions such as 'What kind of dress would she be wearing?' and 'Which, eef any, of ze Weasleys should zey invite?' and 'What could zey do to ensure zat she, Gabrielle, did not upstage ze brides on their wedding day, because clearly she, Gabrielle, waz the most fantastic looking of the three?' and so on.  
The sisters laughed and laughed as they walked the grounds, but anytime Fleur pressed her sister regarding her mood in France, Gaby changed the subject.  
When the morning came to a close, Fleur and Gaby headed back towards the castle and met up with Hermione in her quarters. Gaby hung out with them while they packed, and they both looked at her with a sympathetic look and an "awww…" to which she promptly stuck out her tongue, at both of them.  
"She's so cute, I just want to pack her along!" Teased Hermione, playfully.  
"Non!" Both Delacours responded, in unison.  
Hermione held up her hands, "Okay, fine! Merlin's beard! Sometimes I think I'll never understand siblings…."  
Both Fleur and Hermione promised they would be back in a few days, with Fleur insisting she would spend more time with Gaby before she left. Gaby tried to convince them to have lunch with her but for whatever reason, Hermione would not agree, to her annoyance. Finally, Hermione had to kick Gaby in the ankle, and look at her.  
"Oh!" Said Gaby, in realization. "Ohhhh….Okay, uh, I zink I'm going to go bozzer Minerva now. She promised me wine, after all of Hermione's bullsheet."  
"Au revoir, Gaby."  
"And all zat! 'ave fun, you two!" She winked.  
As they finally said goodbye to Gaby, Hermione grabbed Fleur's hand. "Fleur, we have one more stop before we head off. Come with me, okay?"  
"Oui…" Fleur responded with a hint of question on her lips.  
Grasping Fleur's hand, and hoisting the famous beaded bag over her shoulder, she asked, "Ready?"  
Fleur nodded, and Hermione led them, to their last stop, prior to departure.  
XOXOXOXOXOX  
Hermione continued to drag Fleur with her, walking endlessly, and away from the exit that lead outside. Instead of leaving the building, they went deeper into the bowels of the castle. Once on the seventh floor, Fleur smiled. She knew where they were….  
… the Room of Requirement.  
Fleur chuckled. "Ma belle…waz are we doing 'ere…?"  
Hermione took the required approach towards the nondescript wall, and suddenly, the door appeared before them. She held open the ornate door, for her witch.  
"Aprez-vous, mademoiselle…"  
Upon entering, Fleur noticed the room looked exactly like it did on their very first date.  
The fire was roaring, the couch looked cozy as ever and the table was set with lunch. Although it was not the French food Fleur had made for Hermione, it still looked like a delicious meal. Fleur even noticed that Kelly Clarkson was playing softly in the room.  
She turned to Hermione wearing a smile that could light the room.  
"Oh, Mon Dieu, 'ermione! Vat are you up to, ma belle?! Zis is just like zee night of our first date. Eets perfect!"  
Hermione smiled, relieved. "I wanted to do something special for you, for us, since this is your first time back to Hogwarts since our bonding. This was the night I started falling in love with you Fleur and it was so perfect. Waking up in your arms is something I can't wait to do every single day, just like we did that night. So, would you like to have a little lunch with me before we head off to London?"  
"Oui, zat sounds perfect."  
The witches sat at the table and enjoyed a simple lunch, reminiscing about their first date that was only a few short months ago. They talked about their plans for the weekend in London and Fleur gave Hermione an update on her work and told her some always-amusing Tonks stories. After their meal, Hermione stood up and brought Fleur over the couch where they sat down, a light dessert waiting for them.  
Cuddled on the couch, Hermione began to speak, "Fleur. I can't believe we have known each other for years, but never realized that we were mates. When you arrived here at Hogwarts this year, you turned my life upside down. I was in no way thinking about love, or let alone finding the person I wanted to spend my life with. And frankly, if someone told me if would be you I would have laughed."  
Hermione coud not stop from chuckling a little, "You would have laughed too my love!" Fleur relented, and smiled back.  
Hermione then continued on, "I had never thought about another woman like this before, Fleur, and you were with William throughout my formative years. But Fleur, seeing you that night in Narcissa's quarters, I could not stop staring. But not just because you are beautiful Fleur, but because I could hardly breathe around you. I wanted to be closer, to touch you, to get to know you again, to learn everything I could. I am so thankful you took the chance and kissed me that night Fleur."  
Hermione paused and smiled broadly at her witch.  
"Because you have made my dreams come true. You make me feel whole, like I have a true family that belongs to just me. I can't wait to spend our lives together Fleur. I want to grow old with you, have children with you, travel the world with you and just be by your side."  
With that, Hermione slid off the couch and got onto one knee to the very earnest, loving and somewhat surprised look of her witch.  
"I know, Fleur, that you said you were destined to propose to me. But I wanted to propose to you too, because I expect this to happen only once in my life Fleur, and I wanted you to hear and see how much I love you too. So Fleur Isabelle Delacour, will you marry me?"  
Fleur did not say anything. The tears running down her face spoke volumes and the only thing she could do, in that moment, was grab Hermione's face and give her the most tender, loving and emotion-filled kiss she could muster. Pulling away, she said, "'Ermione Jean Granger, I want nozing more in my life zan you. You make me 'appier zan I ever knew possible. And zo I zink you know my answer, but YES, of course I want to marry you!"  
Hermione took the ring out of the little turquoise-like box and put it on Fleur's finger. The ring had a 1.5 carat round center stone, with smaller .25 carat diamonds surrounding the center stone on a beautiful platinum band.  
"Merde, 'Ermione…zis is spectacular…" Fleur gasped.  
"So when I went to Muggle London yesterday my love, it was to pick up your ring! It's from a very famous and beautiful Muggle store called Tiffany's. I could take you there this weekend if you would like, I rather think you might fall in love with the place. So I went there earlier this week to pick out your ring, and if you notice, it's engraved on the inside."  
Fleur pulled off the stunning ring and read out loud, "Duas Medietates, Totum. Vat does zis mean?"  
"It's Latin. It reads Two Halves, Whole. Fluer. So when I wear my ring, it shows that I am taken, and that all other Veela know that I have a true mate. While I couldn't make a ring of my essence, this ring is charmed Fleur, so that whenever we are apart, if you need to find me, the stones will change colors and act like a compass to set you on a course to come to me. It will help bring our two halves back together again. Because Fleur, I'm not whole without you."  
Then, Hermione chuckled. "And I actually had done that before yesterday Fleur, I promise! I know that because of the bond we can sense each other when we are close, but I thought that far away is when we would need to find each other as well."  
"'Ermione, zis is zee most beautiful ring and zee charm, and zee meaning could not be more perfect. Zank you ma belle. I did not expect zis, at all, and from zee bottom of my heart, you 'ave made me feel zo special and loved. I feel like zee luckiest girl in zee world because of you. Zank you."  
The witches stayed wrapped up in each other on the couch, in thier room for a while longer, wanting to savour every moment. Fleur kept taking sneaky glances at her ring, which made Hermione swell with pride knowing her witch loved it. They kissed and laughed and cried all in good measure. But they were also anxious to head to London, so the two straighted themselves up and headed out.  
Of course they had to show Gaby the ring, so they stopped by her room and stole her from class for a moment. She peppered both of them with hugs and kisses, and laughed so hard she cried when Fleur explained the charm. "Would 'ave been 'elpful yesterday, non?" She said pointedly to Hermione in a flat tone shooting her a nasty look before she pulled her close and gave her a wet kiss on the cheek. "I love you two, but go! Off wiz you two. Make-a-zee-love all weekend and all zat bullsheet."  
Next they went to the infirmary to see Cissy. Cissy also gave them many hugs and kisses and wished them a wonderful weekend together. She promised she would not tell Lene about the ring so the girls could tell her themselves, after she gave it several appraising looks. After a wisper in Hermione's ear, "you did very well sweet girl," she sent them off. Finally, they made their way up to Minerva's office to apologize again and let her know they were heading out for the weekend.  
""eadmistress," Fleur started before Minerva interrupted her.  
"Young lady, you are about to wed one of my favorite people, someone who I consider family, so you shall call me Minerva, I will accept nothing else," she said with a slight tease, although she made it clear she was quite serious.  
"Oui, zen, Minerva," Fleur started sheepishly, "I am quite zorry for zee commotion I caused when I arrived and I wanted to apologize in person. We also wanted to let you know zat we are going to 'ead to London for zee weekend, and ensure you would be able to reach us if needed. You can owl to my flat, 'Ead-umm-Minerva, if you need my 'Ermione. Would zat be acceptable?"  
"Yes my dear. I appreciate you coming to see me before you head off."  
With several more hugs and kisses, the witches were sent off again, Minerva stating she had a student to reprimand. But it did not go unnoticed the tears in her eyes as she shooed them on their way.  
XOXOXOXOXOXO  
Hermione and Fleur landed in an alley not far from Fleur's flat. It was located a short distance from Diagon Alley in a mixed Muggle and Wizard part of London.  
Grabbing Hermione's hand, she lead the two of them out toward the street. They passed a park where children were playing and couples were lounging on the grass. As they approached a beautiful brick building, Fleur pointed up, "Ma belle, zis is my building, my flat is right up zere. Shall we?"  
Fleur lead Hermione into her building and up two flights of stairs. After undoing her quite complex wards, she opened the door and paused, turning to Hermione meaningfully.  
"'Ermione, I 'ope eets not presumptuous of me, and I know zat we 'ave much to talk about, in regard to our future, but, Welcome 'Ome 'Ermione. For what's mine iz yours ma belle."  
For once, Hermione was speechless. She threw her arms around Fleur and held her tightly, kissing her neck gently. "Fleur…" she whispered. "…love."  
The flat was spectacular. Dark hard wood floors gleamed throughout. In the entry way was a beautiful table and mirror as well as a coat rack. A small half-bath was on the right. Entering further brought them into a large open living room, with a leather sofa and two incredibly cozy cream chairs, and beautiful cream rug in between, all centered around a large fireplace that Fleur had roaring in an instant. The light colored furniute coupled with silver accents and dark wood floors suited Fleur perfectly. On both sides of the fireplace were large windows overlooking the park and Fleur's charming little street.  
To the right was the kitchen, open to the living area and separated by a bar with four stools. The kitchen also gleamed in white and silver. Behind the kitchen was a hallway to a small office that Fleur used when she worked from home. To the left was a hallway that contained three bedrooms, two guest rooms on the left with a connecting loo and the master on the right. Hermione took it all in. It looked so perfectly Fleur, sophisticated yet cozy, elegant but welcoming.  
"Fluer, its so beautiful. I love it, it's so perfectly you my love."  
"Zere ees one last room to show you, ma belle. Zis, zis is our room."  
 **XOXOXOXOXOXOXO**  
Upon hearing Fleur so beautifully welcome Hermione to her, now their home, the pent up emotions from the misunderstanding the day prior, coupled with the proposal today, well, Fleur and Hermione were desperate for each other.  
Their need was so powerful they wanted to be one, not two for any moment longer.  
Lips smashed against lips, bodies slammed against bodies and Fleur dragged them to her huge four-poster bed in the center of the room. Clothes were flying. Hermione ripped off Fleur's shirt and bra, while Fleur went straight for Hermione's pants, pulling them down her slim hips roughly. As she stood back up Hermione pushed Fleur back onto the bed and simultaneously ripped off her own jumper throwing it on the floor. Leaning over her blonde, her breasts still captured by a racy purple bra that was driving Fleur crazy, Hermione went straight for Fleur's pants, pealing them down her body with focused determination.  
Fleur pushed herself back toward the center of the bed while Hermione stalked up her legs. Wasting no time, she dove into Fleur's glistening center, mouth first. She attacked Fleur's clit with her tongue, and moments later, without removing her lips she plunged two fingers into Fleur's center bringing her to climax as she pounded her fingers into her lover, licking and sucking Fleur's clit with reckless abandon.  
Fleur's moans, coupled with random French explicatives while she climaxed made Hermione practically orgasm right alongside her witch.  
Sensing that as soon as Fleur touched Hermione she would come undone, Fleur pulled Hermione up to her and while she hovered over her Veela, Fleur entered her immediately and watched Hermione unravel above her after several hard pulses of the three fingers inside her.  
Hermione fell on Fleur, lying wholly on top of her blonde.  
They lay together, breathing hard for a bit until Hermione raised her head. She grabbed Fleur's hand, and kissed the diamond ring on her finger.  
"Fleur Isabelle Delacour, I love you so much." Then she reached up and finally kissed her on the mouth. Their lips met slowly at first and as their passion intensified, mutual desire once again coursed through their bodies.  
"'Ermione, I need to taste you," Fleur whispered to her witch. "And I want you to taste me at the same time. 'Ow does zat sound to you, ma belle?" Fleur asked.  
"Oh fuck. Yes," was all Hermione could muster.  
At that, Fleur, still on the bottom, maneuvered Hermione slowly, flipping her around so Hermione's enticing core was hovering over her face. She was stunned into silence for a moment, taking in the incredible view in front of her. Her witch's core was in front of her face, her flawless legs on both sides of Fleur's head allowing Fleur to have both arms wrapped around her witches behind. Merde.  
Hermione, her body pressed against her lover, head hanging between Fleur's wide open legs, shuttered to herself. How did it take me so long to realize that I wanted to be with a woman, oh my Gods, this is the absolute sexiest position I've ever found myself in, Hermione thought to herself.  
Fleur lost control first. She blew softly on Hermione's opening and slowly her mouth covered her clit. Her tongue expertly made it's way up and down Hermione's folds, causing the woman above her to shudder. Fleur's arms, wrapped tightly around Hermione's thighs, pulled her witch down further to her face as she continued to love every inch of her witch she could reach. Up and down, alternating between the flat of her tongue and the tip of her tongue, she licked and sucked her witch.  
On the other end of the bed, Hermione used her tongue to delve deep into Fleur's center. She was so aroused by their newfound position that they were enjoying, she alternated sucking and licking, while also stopping as she was overcome with the feeling of her witch simultaneously loving her. They were covered in sweat, stuck together and had their heads buried in each other's center. And it was fucking amazing.  
"'Ermione, I need you to come in my mouz. Now ma belle," Fleur growled. As she did, she hummed making her mouth vibrate over Hermione's clit, at the same time maneuvering her arm around Hermione's leg to position her hand into front of Hermione's opening, piercing her with three fingers.  
"Holy fuck…"  
"Merde…"  
The witches were groaning, moaning, licking, sucking and pounding each other frenetically.  
Wanting nothing more than to come together, Hermione matched Fleur's intensity and slammed into her witch not letting her mouth leave Fleur's clit for even a moment. She could barely breathe but she did not care.  
Both witches were lost in each other, lost in their love and passion, their movements becoming more erratic in their need for release and their need for each. They came, together, hard, crying out, making muffled noises as they were still buried in their lovers cores.  
They both paused for a moment, Hermione laying her head on Fleur's thigh, her face covered in her witches juices with a completely dazed grin on her face.  
"Oh my Gods woman," Hermione moaned. "That was amazing."  
"Oui…ohhhh…oui…"  
Slowly regaining consciousness, Hermione crawled back over Fleur so her head was nestled into her Veela's neck, her naked and sweaty body lying fully on top of the witch below her. Hermione groped for their covers, pulled them up and both witches passed out immediately.  
 **XOXOXOXOXOXOXO**  
Hermione slowly woke up to the feeling of soft hands running up and down her back and arse.  
"Mmmmmmmm, hi love," Hermione whispered into Fluer's neck. The witches had not moved since their earlier activities. Hermione was still sprawled, naked, on top of Fleur.  
"Ma belle…you are zee sexiest zing. Zis is 'eaven, waking up wiz you on top of me naked. Merde."  
"What time is it cheeky witch?" Hermione giggled, thinking she felt quite the same way. "Oh, and this is absolutely the most comfortable bed I've ever slept on. I'd like to make a formal request to sleep on this," she gently poked Fleur's nose, then breast and tummy, "every night moving forward."  
"I zink…yes, I zink zat can be arranged little witch. Eets time for dinner now. I zink we 'ave earned some nourishment, non?"  
"Oui Fleur, food. Good. Yes. Food would be good," Hermione giggled.  
"Vat would make you 'appy love? Have your 'eart set on anyzing in particular?" Fluer asked.  
"Yes, I know exactly what I want…to eat. You. I'd like to eat you," Hermione responded in earnest and started wiggling her way down Fleur's body.  
Fleur laughed, out loud, and Hermione stopped to look up for that sound was so undeniably Fleur and so unbelievably sexy.  
"While I agree," Fluer stated, pulling Hermione back up to her face, "I zink zat we need some ozzer types of nourishment before we get back to dessert. Come wiz me, belle, let me show you around our kitchen. And if you are a good witch, we can eat dinner back togezer in bed."  
Fleur dragged Hermione out of bed, draping them both in nearly indecent silky robes. She then headed for the kitchen.  
"Fleur?" The observant brunette called, towards Fleur's departing backside. "Why do you have two robes?" Hermione asked, curiously  
"Because, ma belle, one iz pour vous, naturallement! I may 'ave popped in 'ere, before I arrived at zee 'ogwarts, to prepare for our rendez-vous," she explained. "I too am allowed to 'ave little secrets from you, cheeky one!"  
Hermione grinned, feeling spoiled.  
Fleur pulled out a chair for Hermione at the bar, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. The blonde returned to the kitchen and began pulling ingredients out of the cabinets and fully stocked refrigerator. Winking, she made Hermione a fresh bubbly water with a lemon garnish and handed it to her, gracefully.  
Hermione looked at her witch, feeling rather impressed.  
"Fleur, I had not idea you were…well, inclined towards the culinary arts, I suppose? Do you like to cook?" Hermione asked. She took a drink, remembering to add, "and thank you for the drink. I'm quite parched, actually."  
"Moi? I love to cook! You see, ma belle, eet 'elps me, I zink, take zee focus off of my work. Eet's important to 'ave a release, non?" She waggled her eyebrows, suggestively. "Before you, I would lose myself in my kitchen. I can't say zat I do eet az often az I'd like, but I do love it."  
She paused, dicing some particularly odd looking herbs. Throwing them into the bowl with a flourish, she added, "I 'ave a sneaking suspicion zat I will like much to cook for you, ma mate," Fleur explained, with another wink. "Naked. Especially eef you…are practically naked." She grinned. "Zat will help, I suspect."  
Hermione nearly spit out her water. "What? Being naked?"  
"Totally naked."  
With a smile, Hermione watched as Fleur resumed her concentrated work. She found it incredibly sexy watching Fleur in the kitchen. She looked absoulety in command of herself and her kitchen, and practically glided around as she prepared their feast.  
"Mon chou, feel free to look around, if you would like!" She tasted her reduction sauce, nodding. Looking back at Hermione, she offered, "Make yourself at 'ome, 'ermione, sinze zis iz your 'ome, too! I want you to know," Fleur explained while she worked, "zat no one 'as ever been 'ere, before…in a romantic sense. I've 'ad a few friends, oui, and ze family, of course; but never a lover, never William…no one." She paused, looking at Hermione meaningfully.  
Hermione, for her part, didn't realize what a relief it was, until Fleur had said it.  
Fleur understood the unspoken that passed between them. "Zis place is my sanctuary. I want eet to be yours, az well. I realize zat we 'ave to talk about what you want in our living situation, and where you want to live, in more detail…but for now, ma belle, I want you to know zis is your 'ome too, unless we decide differently. Togezer."  
Hermione's eyes were shining, with adoration.  
"Fleur," She began, her voice trembling slightly. The momentousness of this moment was not lost on the Golden Girl. "Where you are, is where I want to be. And yes, I do think we should talk about where we live, sure. Especially for them time after we get married," she said with wide, happy eyes, "…but until then, your home is perfect! I love it Fleur… I feel like I'm surrounded by you here." She looked around, clearly happy. "I feel safe, and loved; I want nothing more than to live here, with you." She smiled. Adding, "well, when I'm not at Hogwarts, that is," she chuckled.  
There was a comfortable silence that passed between them while she watched her blonde domestic goddess parce, dice, mix, taste and whip it all up into some culinary monstrosity that was smelling sinfully delicious.  
Hermione broke the silence, after a realization.  
"You know Fleur, I've lived at Hogwarts for the past two years…two years! I don't even have a home really beyond the castle. And before that I moved around so much, between the Weasley's, Gimmaulad Place and even my parents on occasion. It's kind of sad, rather, now that I say it out loud…" she furrowed her brows. "So the idea of living here, with you, having a true home? It could not be more perfect. Thank you, Fleur. Really….thank you, for loving me, and well…giving me so much."  
Fleur looked at her, confused.  
"Yes, Fleur," Hermione explained. "You've given me a home, a family, and a love that I just didn't know was possible. That it could even exist…" Hermione explained, earnestly.  
Fleur stopped what she was doing and walked over to Hermione.  
Bending down, she perched on her stool. She gave her a sweet and loving kiss, gazed deeply in her eyes. Fleur placed her batter-covered hand on Hermione's cheek, tenderly.  
"Well, zis is good zen, right? Zat you like it 'ere?" She stroked her cheek with her thumb. "Because, I already put you on zee deed!"  
Hermione's jaw dropped, causing Fleur to giggle.  
"So, zen…. welcome 'ome, ma belle!" Fleur bustled back to the kitchen, still amused at Hermione's shocked expression. She began layering in the batter into the saucepan. "We shall bring zome of your zings 'ere, as soon as we can, oui? And so, for now, go! Explore, love…. I should be done wiz our dinner soon."  
Hermione walked over to Fleur, shaking her head, and gave her a tiny peck, and prepared to do just that.  
 **XOXOXOXOXOX**  
Hermione couldn't help but to be impressed by Fleur's taste.  
She had started in the living room. It was impossible not to take a moment to enjoy the view outside one of the magnificent windows. Hermione sighed, amazed at the view.  
She then ran her fingers along the couch and the chairs; noting the carpet felt soft and warm under her bare feet. On the other side of the wall, she spotted a wall of books.  
How did I not see this before? The studious woman thought excitedly to herself, and beelined directly towards them, like a moth to a flame.  
Scanning the vast book collection Fleur had, she saw a few on the 'History of the Veela' and had to admit, she was overcome with excitement. She had consumed every book at Hogwarts having to do with Veela, but by all accounts, it was a rather sparse collection. She was left intellectually unsatisified and craving to learn more.  
"Fleur?" Hermione called out. "Can I read your books on the History of Veela?"  
"Oui! Bien sur, 'ermione!" She called back. "You are ma mate, zey should recognize you, ma belle. You see, no one can read zem save a Veela or their mate." Fleur explained.  
Like a kid in a candy store, Hermione pulled out three and practically skipped over to one of the big, welcoming chairs in the living room, pulling a soft and decadent purple-colored throw off the back of the chair and wrapped herself up.  
She was so happy in that moment.  
In her home, with her lover- her future wife- wrapped up in her scent and feeling of her witch embedded in the throw…it was perfect.  
Hermione dove in, reading with abandon.  
Before she knew it, she felt a delicate kiss on her head. Hermione looked up, and standing before her, was a vision of silver and blonde hair, with perfect light pink lips, and a smile that was just for her.  
"Ma belle, would you like to eat now?" Fleur asked, smiling. "Een bed, or 'ere?"  
"Wow, it smells delicious, Fleur!" she realized. She smiled back. "Let's go back to bed, if that's okay with you? And, uh… can I take the books with me?"  
Fleur grinned.  
"It's just, this is such a well written, comprehensive narrative that's so…well, non-pejorative. It's actually informative, and well written."  
Fleur loved her little academic. "'ermione…. zis iz your 'ome, too! I am serious love. What's mine," she reached out and touched Hermione's heart, "…iz yours."  
 **XOXOXOXOXOXO**  
The witches headed back to bed, where Hermione discovered Fleur had made them three different types of crepes. Two savory, one sweet, and all delicious.  
"Fleur! These are amazing. How did you learn to cook so well? I don't mean to be so shocked, but honestly, I can't imagine that you grew up cooking, did you?" she questioned.  
"Well, my Maman actually loves to cook. She does not cook often, non, but when I waz growing up every zo often Gaby and I got to spend time wiz her in zee kitchen. When I bought zis flat, I knew zat I wanted a kitchen where I could cook if inspiration struck me." She took another bite, then resumed talking. "Itz been a wonderful escape for me, when I needed eet. I'm zrilled zat you like ma cooking because it brings me great joy to make you 'appy."  
They continued to eat and talk, steal kisses and simply enjoy being together.  
The rest of the evening was spent, wrapped up in one another….. making love, talking, and forgetting the rest of the world existed.  
It was perfect.  
 **XOXOXOXOXOXO**  
The next morning the witches relished waking up together, naked. Hermione was wrapped around Fleur, her arms holding her tightly, one leg thrown over Fleur possessively. She had her head buried in Fleur's neck.  
Fleur's arms, for their part, were also tangled around Hermione; when she woke, she sighed and turned, pulling Hermione even closer. Waking, she began slowly peppering kissed onto her forehead.  
They were wrapped tightly together under their heavy duvet, the sun was just peaking in and nothing could feel more perfect than that moment.  
"Hi Fleur…mmmmm…" came a groggy good morning from Hermione. "Coffee…please, love?"  
"Stop being zo adorable you." Fleur said sternly with a grin on her face. Making thier way out of the bedroom, Fleur whipped them up a light breakfast while Hermione had padded back to the chair in the living room to read her book.  
Today they were going to meet Hermione's parents and then spend the rest of the afternoon in London, exploring together.  
Before they left, Fleur showed Hermione around the flat once more and mentioned all the ways she wanted to make sure the flat became their home, together.  
Before they left, they made love. Again. And then Fleur spent an inordinate amount of time trying to figure out the perfect outfit to wear to meet Hermione's parents.  
Hermione could do nothing to calm her blonde. Truthfully, Hermione knew her parents could care less about what they were wearing; but she knew it was important to Fleur to look her best, so she let her flit about.  
This patience wore thin, eventually around the twentieth clothing change. Finally she could not stand it, anymore.  
Hermione hollered, "Fleur! My parents are dentists! If you are really worried about impressing them, I suggest you spend your time flossing instead of preparing for the runway!"  
"What?" Fleur said, from the depths of her walk in closet.  
"Fleur, they will be far more focused on your teeth than your outfit. I promise!" Hermione replied, in a half shout, half giggle. Walking into Fleur's closet, she asked, "Put on these, please."  
To the surprise of no one, Hermione extended her arms, holding the black jeans she adored—ever so—on her Fleur, compete with a soft blue sweater, dark black knee high riding boots and a cream scarf. She would look elegant, perfect and sexy as hell to Hermione.  
Fleur obliged, much to Hermione's shock.  
Parading out the closet, stepping over the heaps of clothes discarded, Fleur looked relaxed and perfect, her eyes shown brightly, and her golden mane flowed down her back.  
Hermione gave Fleur a quick kiss, then turned her around and patted her on the bottom.  
"You look like a Goddess! But, Fleur…go to the bathroom! Dental hygene."  
Fleur looked at her, in disbelief.  
Hermione pointed. "To the bathroom, Fleur!" She made skedaddle gestures with her hands. "Go! I'm not joking…you better floss, my love! Floss!"  
She watched as Fleur and her perfect arse made it's way to the bathroom, thanking the stars above that Fleur was hers.  
 **XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**  
"Five hours," was the answer.  
The boy-who-lived and his wife exchanged a look, which they shared subversively with the Golden Girl, also seated at the table. The three looked at each other, tersely, then looked back at the blonde Veela. The redhead was nearly vibrating with laughter.  
"You've been back for a whole five hours, from your parents' house, then, have you?" Ginny asked, relentlessly.  
"Mmm-hmm." Fleur hummed.  
Harry looked around the dinner table that the four shared in a fashionable spot picked by his wife for some needed catching up. Being one of the few who could understand the difficulties of traversing the two worlds, he asked, politely, "So, Fleur, what did you think, then? Was this your first experience, with muggles?" Harry asked, far more politely than his wife, who was shaking with silent laughter as she tried to eat her salad without choking. "Fully immersed in muggle culture, then?"  
"Mmmm-hmmm." She confirmed.  
Harry held out his hands, as though to indicate, "Well?"  
Fleur looked back at him.  
She just offered a wan, close-mouthed smile, and shrugged. She opted instead to gesture gracefully back to Hermione, conceding the floor to her. At this point, Hermione could no longer hold it in, as she caught Ginny's pointed glance, the two burst out into fits of laughter.  
This brought even more attention to their star-studded table, and at one point, Ginny nearly fell off her chair.  
"Ha ha ha!" Ginny bellowed. "Oh my fucks sakes, blimey! I think I just peed myself!"  
Harry looked at his wife incredulously. "Thanks for sharing, dear, with Fleur, Hermione, and myself…as well as with all of London proper as well, I should add," he said, gesturing towards the dozens of interested onlookers.  
He let them laugh like loons for a few moments more, then gave in. "And what may I ask is so funny, ladies?"  
Ginny wacked Hermione on the shoulder, disregarding Fleur's dirty look. "Ha ha…Tell Harry, 'Mione.…bwhah ha ha!" She fell into laughter, again.  
Hermione was struggling not to laugh, out of respect to her mate, was succeeding…barely.  
"Well…heh, uh, mmmm. Well, Harry, as you know, my parents are…" She glanced at Ginny. "…dentists…."  
That singular word, "dentists", did the two women in. They both collapsed into pearls of uncontrolled laughter. Tears running down her face, Hermione looked at Fleur, apologetically. "I'm so sorry, love!"  
"Mmmm." Fleur said, noncommittally, giving a glare and which caused the two Gryffindors to laugh, harder.  
It was only after another shot of Firewiskey that Hermione was finally able to gather herself enough to explain to Harry, the events leading up to their current dinner together, in London amongst the four of them.  
Earlier that day, they had visited the childhood hometown of Chipping Campden in the Gloucestershire region, where Hermione grew up. The meeting with the Drs. Granger went better than expected.  
Hermione's parents were so struck by Fleur's "outstanding mandible construction," and "perfect incisors," it was quickly a slippery slope from their professional observations over tea to Dr. and Dr. Granger's professional chair.  
Wizards, universally, never had to deal with the mundane issues of brushing their teeth; spells were much faster and generally more effective; as such, they never had to undergo what Fleur described as "medieval torture" vis a vis going under the alias of a muggle "dental cleaning."  
Fleur's poor mouth might never be the same.  
At the restaurant table, she opted to ignore the two idiot females, instead looking directly at Harry.  
"Mon Dieu!" She offered quietly, "did you 'ave to undergo zat torture as a child, as well, 'arry?" She asked, softly, barely opening her mouth.  
He nodded yes, empathetically.  
"Muggles are a lot tougher zan we give zem credit for." She sighed shaking her head.  
After Hermione ordered her witch a few shots of firewhiskey, she was able to be slightly more conversant. Ginny confessed she had also been subjected to one of the Granger's more enthusiastic dental cleanings as well, and she found it hilarious that little miss perfect Beauxbaton herself now had undergone the experience.  
"We've all been through the Gauntlet known as Drs. Grangers…just be glad their daughter opted to not follow in their footsteps!" Ginny said, still chuckling.  
"Ferme le bouche, you…Professional athlete, you!" Fleur grimaced, taking another swig.  
"Ouch, that hurts! Calling me a professional athlete…especially since I am one!"  
"You're a lesbian?" Harry asked, confused.  
She wacked her husband on the back on the head. "Bugger, Harry, that's not what she's saying!"  
Fleur looked at her, dead on. "Zat's exactly what I'm saying."  
Ginny gave the Veela the bird. "Okay, bitch, for real. What'd you think of the Grangers?"  
Fleur kept a very neutral look on her face.  
The blonde said, "I zink eets more to ze point, what did zey zink of me?"  
Harry gave her a gentle pat. "I'm sure they loved you, Fleur…I mean, how could they not, ay?"  
Hermione grinned. "They adored her, Harry!" The brunette gushed, proudly. "Well, her and her…I quote! 'Her impeccable dental hygiene!' They were surprisingly agreeable to Fleur, actually. She was brilliant!"  
"Of course she was!" Grinned Harry, supportively.  
"Only GG's parents…" muttered Ginny, good-naturedly.  
Hermione gave her the pseudo-evil eye. "What's that supposed to mean, love?"  
"Well, you are kind of a nutter, GG. It stands to reason that they way to impress your parents is either a large book or a clean mouth. It figures—hey! Ouch!" Exclaimed Ginny, her sentence cut short by a firm whack on the back of her head from an angry Veela.  
"Do not insult ma mate, Ginerva!"  
"Ow!" She said, rubbing the back of her head. "I think it's knotting! Damn it!" She rolled her eyes. "Fleur, really, do I ever insult any of the dozen of people in my life that you have married or are marrying in the future? Huh? At least I said Fleur, and not Phlem!"  
Fleur was aiming an olive, prepared to launch directly at her forehead, in response.  
"Right, then!" Hermione said, cheerfully. Grabbing Ginny's hand, forcefully, she declared, "we're headed to the loo! Gin has to pee."  
"I do?" The redhead asked, confused.  
Hermione nodded, affirmatively. Fleur smiled, sweetly. "Yes, Ginerva," Fleur confirmed, her voice a silky trap. "You do. So… be gone, you professional athlete! And… keep your 'ands off my soon-to-be-wife, by ze way!"  
"Sound advice." Agreed Harry.  
Ginny flipped both of them off, as she turned, the two snockered witches weaving towards the general direction of the women's facilities.  
Harry chuckled. "I say she means well, but…frankly, I think she's just happy someone else thought dental cleanings were harsh, too. Hermione never let her hear the end of it, for weeks!"  
Fleur rubbed her jaw. "Enculer! Eef I didn't know zey actually liked me, I would 'ave zought zis waz ze equivalent of ze muggle unforgivable! Ugh!"  
Harry nodded. He downed the last of his butterbeer, and after finishing his sandwich, he gave Fleur a very speculative look.  
"Fleur?"  
She looked up, not really paying attention. "Ah, oui?"  
"What is it?"  
She shook her head. "Eet's nozzing…"  
Harry gave her his assessing look, one she had become quite familiar with, in their time together in the Auror department. Looking only out of her peripheral vision, finishing the last of her liquid dinner, she growled.  
"Out wiz eet, boy wonder! I can tell some leetle lonely zought is rattling around up zere, behind zat!" She poked him on his scar. "What iz eet, 'arry?"  
"Fleur," he began quietly.  
Fleur groaned. While not a full on Hermione Granger-eque length soliloquy, the tone he adopted generally indicated there would be much more to follow. Both she and Tonks had grown quite familiar with that nuance in their time together at the Ministry.  
"Fleur, have you ever heard the term, 'damned with faint praise'?"  
The Frenchwoman furrowed her brow, clearly lost in the English idiom.  
He leaned forward, looking around, to ensure they still had some modicum of privacy. "Well, it's a saying that generally means…you speak well of them, but…well, not enough really."  
Fleur looked back, stoically. "I suppose, zat's ze 'faint praise,' zen?"  
He nodded. "I've known you for a long time, Fleur Isabelle…."  
"Ouais." She agreed. Sighing, she ran her hands through her hair. "Eets just me, you know, Harry? Eet's just somezing I need to get…used to, I guess." She took a drink of firewhiskey, trying to think of how to express herself, without it being lost in translation. "Eets just….'ere's zere beautiful, brave, accomplished daughter…who comes 'ome to introduce 'er fiancée, and…."  
"It's not because you're female, Fleur, if that's what you're thinking." He interjected.  
Fleur nodded. "I know. Je sais," She agreed. "I zought zat, at first…but zen, after spending time wiz zem, politely playing ze muggle Yatzee! Game, zen politely eating ze brunch, zen politely getting my unforgivable curse…I mean, my dental cleaning…" she corrected, smiling amused.  
He laughed.  
"Eets just…" Fleur sighed, shaking her head. "Zey love her, but zey…je ne sais pas, 'arry. Zere only comment, about ze whole zing, Harry…. waz to ask us to remember to zend zem….ze wedding invitation, non?"  
She shook her head, in disbelief.  
She struggled, to find the words, but Harry was intuitive as he always was. He grasped Fleur's hands in his own, and looked at her meaningfully.  
"Fleur, not everyone comes from a family where a parent would give their life for their child…or has the last name of Weasley…or Delacour." He explained, gently. "And add to that, there is such a great divide, between her parents, and her. They have no idea how important she was, and is, to our world; they have no basis of understanding. It doesn't mean they don't love her…"  
"But zey don't care to understand? To learn?" She said, in disbelief, feeling a little angry and sad, simultaneously.  
"No, Fleur. They don't." He patted her hand. "But, at least they're coming."  
"Yes."  
"You can't always make lemonade out of lemons, Fleur. Sometimes things are just kind of….bitter."  
She grasped Harry's hands, firmly, ensconcing them in her own. She said, meaningfully, "Zen she shall always drink our lemonade, 'arry. Oui?"  
"Oui." He agreed, nodding.  
They exchanged a look of knowing friendship, their hands fully clutched together, only to be interrupted by a whack from Ginny, once again, to the back of Harry's skull.  
"Hey!" He exclaimed.  
"What, now you're the lesbian, Harry?" Ginny said, grinning, gesturing towards their hands.  
"Why am I the lesbian? How do you know I didn't make her straight?" He complained, breaking their handhold and gesturing towards the Veela.  
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Because this is Fleur Delacour we're talking about, here."  
Fleur chuckled, good naturedly, and merely shrugged.  
He looked between the three laughing women, and just looked confused. "Tell me why I didn't stay behind to see the game with Ron, Neville, and Luna?" He mumbled to no one, in particular.  
"Because Ron's a git." Ginny and Fleur said, in unison. Hermione, to her credit, merely shook her head, and busied herself looking for the server to settle the tab.  
The Golden Girl mumbled, "It's time for me to take my witch home and put her to bed. Her poor little mouth-"  
"Moutz? Try ze moutz, ze jaw, ze face, ze neck! Zey are relentless, zez 'dentist' people! Bah!" Fleur interrupted.  
"Yes, so as I was saying, it's time for me to take care of my poor little love," smiled Hermione. "I need her mouth better, as I've got plans for it, tomorrow," she winked.  
Harry's eyes widened.  
"You know," Ginny drawled, "they do have magic to make things feel better. We are witches, you might recall."  
"Oh non, Ginerva!" Fleur interjected. "Zis one," Fleur pointed to Hermione, "she 'as got to work for zis! Muggles did zis, and my muggleborn mate will undo eet! She's crafty, zat one. No shortcuts!"  
Hermione gave her a look.  
"What?" Fleur asked, innocently. "All I'm saying, ma 'ermione, iz zat ze war would 'ave ended must faster if we 'ad zreatened ze Deatz Eaters wiz dentists, instead of Azkaban!"  
"Tosh!" Hermione said. "Look Fleur, muggle toddlers do that…get dental cleanings…every year. Starting at age three!"  
Fleur gasped. "You're inhumane, you muggles!" She declared, somewhat seriously, wincing in pain.  
"Alright you batty witches, we love you both," interrupted Harry. "Never have I ever talked about a dental visit quite so much…"  
With kisses and hugs all around, the couples headed out into the night.  
 **XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**  
They apparated back to Fleur's flat.  
It had been quite a full day; first the travel to Chipping Campden, with the infamous dental cleaning; then their return to London, to the Brixton neighborhood at Ginny's insistence. (She had developed quite the stonker over some restaurant she heard about from Gwenog, and was quite instant they all try it together).  
Truthfully, despite the fact it had been lovely to see Harry and Ginny again, as they had been such a staple of her life before her whirlwind romance with Fleur, it didn't change her relief at being home, again.  
Home. With Fleur.  
Hermione immediately doted on Fleur. She took off her clothes, batting away Fleur's frisky hands, and tucked her into bed. She then administered Episkey! to mend her jaw, and decided to add in a Reparifors! at the last minute, as well. She then hurried off to the kitchen to prepare an ice pack and some bubbly water for her ailing witch.  
Smiling as she returned, Impromptu Healer Granger pushed Fleur back into a reclining position, and offered her a drink through through the straw. Fleur took it obligingly, but grimaced in the effort, slightly.  
Hermione frowned. "Still hurts?"  
"Oui."  
Hermione regarded her patient. "Try this," she suggested, holding the ice packs. She placed the bags of ice on Fleur's jaw, gently on each side, and held them there. After a moment of treatment, Fleur looked surprised.  
"What?" Asked Hermione, noticing her expression.  
Fleur answered honestly. "Zat iz…remarkably soozing, actually."  
"We muggles do actually know a thing or two, about getting things done…without magic, Fleur."  
Fleur nodded.  
"But," mused Hermione, "I suppose its not a bad thing, to augment with magic…Lenio." Hermione commanded softly, performing the pain relief spell, wandlessly.  
Fleur rubbed her jaw.  
"Wow!" Fleur remarked, moving her jaw in different directions. "I am imprezzed. Not only zat my pain iz totally gone, but you did zat without your wand, 'ermione! Zat's amazing."  
"Meh." Hermione said, indifferently.  
Fleur arched her eyebrow, regarding her brilliant witch. The blonde, clearing thinking impure thoughts, had a rather evil expression develop on her face. Hermione, missing the change in mood of her Veela, was tidying up the ice and remnants, and stood to get up. Fleur grabbed her, by the wrist, halting her actions.  
"Wait." She commanded, voice husky.  
Hermione looked up, startled. She registered the danger she was in, and grinned. With a firm yank, Fleur pulled Hermione back down, to the bed. Her gesture was so forceful, catching Hermione unexpectedly, that Hermione tumbled, flat on to her back, next to the predatory Veela.  
Fleur immediately topped the younger woman. Peering down at her, her eyes dark, Fleur licked her lips.  
"Eet seemz such a waste, all of zis ice, n'est-ce pas?"  
She looked down at Hermione, intently.  
Hermione Jean Granger looked back up at the intense woman, hovering above her. Despite the trace of smile on her lips, her eyes were anything but playful. She looked intense, all of a sudden.  
Hermione felt the beginning of Fleur's thrall thrumming off her body. "Fleur?" She mumbled, the brunette's throat suddenly dry.  
Fleur, despite being completely naked, seemed the one fully in charge. She now had Hermione pinned down, underneath her, the Veela's griphold firm. The small trace of smile from before had disappeared completely from her face.  
"Do you realize, 'ermione, 'ow long eet 'as been, since I've touched you, mate?"  
"Err, ah…" Hermione concentrated, Fleur's thrall now pulsing off her body, and making Hermione's brain turn to mush. "Uh, let's see…." Hermione swallowed. "…I think, uh….this morning?" She offered, weakly.  
"Zis morning…." Fleur's eyes, dark as night, moved closer to Hermione's. Speaking in a low growl, she said, "…oui, zat iz correct. And…ma belle, zat iz…. unacceptable."  
She continued staring down Hermione, as a grin slid across the Veela's face.  
Fleur commanded, "Reducto Vestimenta!" demonstrating her own prowess at using a wandless spell, as Hermione's clothes flew off her body.  
"Wow." Hermione noted, seriously impressed at Fleur's skills, despite the haze of sexual desire clouding her brain at present.  
"Hm. Indeed." Fleur said, indifferently, as she reached across Hermione, deliberately grazing her nipples across Hermione's breasts in the effort, and grabbed a bag of ice in her hand.  
As she opened the bag, taking out a rather large ice cube, she said suggestively, "seemz like such a waste, of zis ice, to just let it melt without any use at all," she looked at the brunette, "don't you zink, 'ermione?"  
Hermione swallowed, thickly. "I suppose, Fleur…"  
"You suppose?" Fleur arched an eyebrow, putting the cube between her teeth. "Or…you agree?" She added, as she moved down, and circled the cold cube around the circumference of Hermione's right nipple.  
" _Ohhhhhhh_ , fuck! That's….. _cold_!" Hermione gasped, arching up, her nipple pebbling immediately.  
Fleur grinned around the ice cube between her teeth. After the nipple stood to a taut point, she switched sides, and labored over the other nipple. Hermione was writing, and gasped, as she dug her fingernails into the Veela's back.  
"Oh, Gods… _Fleur_ …." Hermione's uttered, the cold arousing her more than she expected.  
Fleur murmered reassurances, as she continued ministering over Hermione's nipple, nearly freezing it to a sharp point. After a few moments, the Veela growled, "Open your moutz, 'ermione."  
Hermione did.  
Fleur slid her body against Hermione's, upwards, and dropped what remained of the partially melted ice cube into Hermione's open mouth.  
"Ack!" Hermione uttered, catching it, in the unexpected move.  
But Fleur wasn't listening. She had returned, lightening quick, her hand on Hermione's left breast, and her mouth enveloping the right. The startling quickness of Fleur's action caused an instant sensation of warmness, shocking Hermione's nipples in a most pleasurable manner. With the sharp pinching and sucking sensations of Fleur's instant hand's and mouth, Hermione's body reflexively arched off the bed.  
"Fuck!" She moaned, underneath Fleur's pressing body. "Gods, Fleur…you feel…." She exhaled, mind lost the the sudden contrast of cold and hot.  
Fleur was relentless, and pressed her warm core into Hermione's, while her insistent mouth above continued tormenting Hermione's aroused nipples, determined.  
"…you feel _amazing_ , Fleur." Hermione concluded, with a loud moan as Fleur swiped her tongue across the tip of her nipple while her whole mouth simultaneously was sucking at her breast.  
When Hermione was sure she could withstand no more, her own core thrusting up to meet Fleur's, and feeling her center literally dripping with desire, Fleur stopped.  
Hermione opened her eyes, curiously. Her eyes widened, startled, as Fleur was directly above her face, unexpectedly.  
The blonde's face was now hovering over the brunette's, their breath intermixing. Fleur looked at her, darkly. Licking her lips, she uttered a singular comment, low and dangerous in tone, its meaning clear.  
"Zis morning? So you know, 'ermione….zat iz way to long, for me to 'ave you…."  
And Fleur Delacour leaned down, claiming Hermione's mouth in a deep and needy kiss.  
 **TBC**


	12. Love At Home(s)

**Love at Home(s)**

Fleur woke up with a smile plastered across her face.  
Why wouldn't she, after all? Hermione was naked, tucked neatly into the Veela's side. The brunette's breathing was slow, and peaceful; a small smile hinted on her lips as she slept. She was so beautiful.  
Fleur's heart was practically bursting out of her chest as she looked in awe at her mate.  
She felt lucky. And grateful. And happy…so very happy.  
Fleur reminisced, thinking of everything that happened over the weekend. She was thankful to have met Hermione's parents, in retrospect. Despite her realization how truthful Hermione had actually been, in explaining her relationship with her parents to Fleur, it had gone better than anticipated.  
The experience steeled her resolve, however. She was determined, now more than ever, to give Hermione the family of whom she had dreamed; the family of whom she deserved.  
Softly stroking Hermione's bushy brown hair, she turned her body a little in order to pull her witch even closer into her. Roused with the small movement, Hermione burrowed her head further into Fleur's neck, kissing her chest.  
"Hi, Fleur… Mmmm…" Hermione rattled off.  
It was Fleur's favorite time of the day, the time when Hermione would wake up and croak out her sleepy "Hi, Fleur!"  
She sounded so innocent, so adorable, and so loving, in those early morning moments, when she said her name. And it made Fleur's heart, her entire soul… smile.  
"Bonjour, love. 'ow did you sleep?"  
"Mmmmm. When I'm with you? Sleeping with you, Fleur? It's perfect, really. Silly, I know… but it is. I just love being in your arms." Hermione smiled into her neck as she spoke.  
"Well, I feel zee same…"  
The blonde responded by kissing the top of Hermione's head. Pulling away, Hermione looked up at Fleur with her big brown eyes, a meek little grin sliding across her face as she uttered one simple word:  
"Coffee?"  
Fleur chuckled, in understanding.  
"Ouais, my sexy one…ze coffee, naturallement! Go take care of yourself, and meet me back 'ere in five."  
"Oui," smirked Hermione, with a wink, causing Fleur to do a double take.  
The witches headed off in two different directions; Hermione to the bathroom, and Fleur to the kitchen, with the mutual understanding of reconnoitering back in bed in the proverbial five minutes.  
Hermione promptly snuggled back under the covers, looking around the room. Their room.  
She loved it.  
While it was large and roomy, it wasn't too large. It was the perfect mix of warm and soft; calming and welcoming. It had a window ensconced with soft purple and silver curtains, which overlooked the park. In the corner next to the window was a cream-colored oversized sofa chair that could easily fit both of the witches together, snuggled in tight. The center of their room, of course, was occupied by the enormous four-poster bed, covered in lavish sheets, pillows, and a duvet blended with light purples and greens. The duvet, while faded, appeared elegant, and so soft.  
It was quite perfect for the two of them, actually.  
They each had a nightstand adorning each side of their bed, to which Hermione discovered in the night prior that Fleur had stocked with her favorite things….her favorite lip balm, Kleenex, lotions and so forth.  
Such a thoughtful witch…a definite perk to dating the fairer sex.  
There was an enormous dresser across from the bed covered with candles, typical of Fleur. Finally, her gaze landed on the beautiful table next to Fleur's enormous closet, which displayed various photos on it's surface.  
In that moment, she registered she hadn't yet looked at the photos on Fleur's table in any detail! Hermione, annoyed with herself for that overlooked detail, hopped out of bed, heading towards the table. She covered herself in her silky robe, curiosity getting the best of her.  
Her intelligent brown eyes took in the varied depictions of Fleur's life, before her. She noted several photos of Fleur and Gaby, ranging in ages from toddlers to a recent photo of the two beautiful women. She smiled as she regarded the photos of Fleur's parents, and one of all four Delacours, out on the dock at Delacour Pond.  
She openly laughed at the next one.  
Finding a photo of Fleur and Tonks, the Golden Girl was highly amused. It appeared to have been taken when Fleur officially became and Auror and they were teamed up, based on the fact the photo was taken after graduation, in the bowels of the Ministry.  
There was also a photo of Fleur with a bevy of gorgeous women, all wearing those devious blue uniforms. Friends of hers from Beauxbatons, clearly.  
The next one she came across gave her pause. It was from Bill and Fleur's wedding, but neither Bill nor Fleur were in the photo.  
Curious….  
It must have been taken before everything went to hell, because it depicted Harry, Ron, Ginny and herself… all together, and they were all smiling. She looked so young, then. She could still see the stress on her face, however, knowing what was to come next. She wondered why Fleur had that one particular and singular photo up as the token remembrance from her wedding. As unusual as it was, it was the last photo that Hermione saw, that stopped her in her tracks.  
It was of her.  
She was laughing, and looked relaxed. It was clearly taken some time during the Delacour Ball based on what she was wearing.  
Hermione picked up the frame, regarding the photo, carefully. It was in that very moment that Fleur chose to reappear, in her proverbial "five minutes," carrying two large mugs; one with coffee, the other with tea for herself.  
"You look so beautiful 'Ermione, laughing like zat." Fleur said, wistfully, noticing Hermione holding the frame. "You see 'ow zee smile reached your eyes. I love so much when I can make you laugh like zat."  
Hermione smiled, in return. "I didn't realize my photo was being taken! When did you get that?" She asked, as she took her much-needed coffee, pausing for a moment to smell that delicious aroma.  
Fleur shrugged. "We always 'ave a photographer at zee ball, so I asked my Maman if she could press zem to see if zere was one of you I might 'ave. My Maman indulged me, az she does not even yet 'ave all zee photos, but found zis one for me! I 'ave a smaller copy I keep wiz me at all times, too. I could stare at you forever, ma belle."  
Hermione felt so shy in that moment, not knowing what to say. So she just smiled, and pressed a soft kiss to Fleur's cheek.  
She drifted back towards an earlier photo. Glancing at Fleur, she asked, "…and what about… this one?" Hermione pointed to the photo from Fleur's wedding. "A rather interesting….choice."  
"Well…" Fleur began, thoughtfully, indulging in a sip of her tea. "Zat one? Zat was up in my 'ome, when I lived wiz William. I 'ave a box of zings…from zat time in ma life, packed away. When I waz 'ere, in my flat, while 'ealing from making your ring, I pulled eet out because I remembered zat photo."  
Fleur shook her head, slightly. "Eet may seem a little ridiculous, 'ermione, but even zo I was marrying William at zee time, and you were only a young girl… I knew zat we would play an important role in each ozer's lives. Truly. I didn't know, zen, zat you were ma mate, but…" Fleur paused, "I still remember zinking how lovely you were, zat day. And eet made me smile. You made me smile, so I pulled zee photo out."  
Hermione smiled, taking a drink of her own coffee, her eyes never leaving the blonde's.  
**XOXOXOXOXO**  
The witches had made their way back under the covers, fully enjoying their morning beverages when Hermione, clearly in an inquisitive mood, decided to press Fleur a little more.  
"Fleur? Uh… um. Fleur, why is the sex between us... so amazing?" Hermione asked earnestly.  
Fleur laughed.  
Fleur openly laughed in that devastatingly sexy way of hers.  
"Vat do you mean?" she asked, more seriously, once she saw the glare on Hermione's face.  
"I mean, Fleur," Hermione said a little briskly in that Hermionesque-tone, "Why is the sex between us so amazing? If you had asked me before all of this, of us, I would have said that sex was something that was just utter bollocks. At least, that's what my experience had been like before, anyway. And with you, Fleur? Just kissing you is better than all other sexual experiences I've ever had, combined. And I'm seriously just talking about just kissing you."  
Fleur couldn't help it…she was Veela.  
Hearing Hermione talk like this? It made her chest puff out... just a little! Sex was something that was very important to her, and she was thrilled that Hermione was becoming freer in having and talking about the act.  
"Well, Ma Belle," Fleur began, as she sat up and slowly removed the indecent robe covering her body. "Zere are several reasons why zee sex…making love…between us iz So. Fucking. Good…."  
Now naked, she turned under the covers, hovering on top of Hermione. Slowly, Fleur leaned down, and kissed Hermione's exposed décolletage.  
"First," she started deliberately, while putting her weight on her left arm and using her right to untie Hermione's robe, "iz because I am 'opelessly attracted to you ma belle. I find you to be zee sexiest zing I've ever laid my eyes on! And I zink…zat you are attracted to me, comme ca, az well, oui?"  
With that, she ran her hand slowly down Hermione's body, using the pads of her fingertips to caress Hermione's exposed skin, drawing goose bumps as she went. Fleur trailed, starting at her neck, tracing her way down her chest, going agonizingly slowly between her breasts, tickling her stomach, finally stopping at the apex of Hermione's thighs.  
As she went, she softly pushed aside her robe, exposing Hermione's body.  
"Second," Fleur continued, "…we are both women." She said, as she straddled Hermione. Fleur leaned down, pulling Hermione up in a sitting position, and removed the robe from her body completely. She kissed across her newly exposed shoulders and neck, while pushing Hermione back down, onto the pillows.  
"…And while eets not fair to say zat a man does not know 'ow to touch a woman, I zink zat eet iz fair to say zat you 'ave not been wiz a man who knows 'ow to touch a woman! And frankly, I've never found men to be adequate lovers, eizzer. I know," Fleur paused and leaned down to suck on Hermione's right breast, teasing her nipple with her tongue as she felt her skin pucker and her nipple come to a point, "'ow to touch you…"  
Fleur then kissed Hermione's other breast, suggestively adding, "…And 'ow to kiss you." She paused, to lick Hermione's nipple. "…And 'ow to …love you, inside and out."  
Fleur explained, as she gently brushed her fingers over Hermione's silky folds. "And you, ma belle, know 'ow to do zee same… for me, sans question!"  
At this point, Hermione was practically panting, she was so painfully aroused from this 'lesson' that Fleur was bestowing upon her. Her breath caught, as Fleur continued.  
"But, zere iz more, ma belle." Fleur murmered. "You see, 'ermione, we are also deeply in love wiz each other. So, making love…" Fleur kissed Hermione softly on the lips, and looked deeply into her eyes. "Making love, wiz ze person you are destined for? Ze person, zat you love with your whole 'eart and soul, more zan anyzing in ze world? Well zat," she paused and kissed her again, "iz perfection. Nozing will ever compare, ma love."  
Fleur then pressed her naked body down onto Hermione, their core connecting immediately.  
Hermione's legs were wrapped around Fleur's, as she hooked her feet together behind Fleur in order to pull her in, even closer. Fleur pushed up with her arms, her soft, full breasts hanging in front of Hermione, their eyes still connected.  
"So now, I zink," The Veela drawled, "zat we are on… reason four."  
At this, she slowly started rocking her hips into Hermione's core, with emphasis. "You see, 'ermione, we trust one anozer. Every day we are togzther, every moment we spend togzther, eet solidifies what we both knew so soon after we came back, oui? We are meant to be togzther, forever, ma belle! And we, you see, we fit perfectly togzther."  
As she slowly rocked into Hermione, a soft moan escaped from Hermione's lips. "Fleur! Oh, Gods! Ohhhhhhh…" was all Hermione could get out, in response.  
Her hands flew to Fleur's breasts as she slowly started caressing them, kneading them, and gently pulling at her nipples until they came to a point, erect. Her efforts were rewarded with Fleur's pause, as she closed her eyes and moaned.  
"Mmmmm…. 'ermione, we trust each ozzer. And we trust each ozzer, in bed, love! Zere are so many zings I want to do wiz you." Fleur licked her lips. "To do to you," Fleur growled. "I want you to experience all zee ways I can make your body sing! Zere are dirty, dirty zings I want to do to you, 'ermione…. and zat trust we have in each ozzer, and our love? Ohhhh ma love, I can't wait to show you all zee ways I'm going to make our sex, our love making, even more than you could ever imagine!"  
Hermione was a sweaty mess at this point.  
She was dripping with desire, her body flushed, and everything painfully aroused.  
"But finally, 'ermione? You. Are. My. Mate." Fleur stated, conclusively. "Mine! And we," she ground herself down, into Hermione, as finished, "we will be together. Forever. You are mine. And I am yours. And zat, zat makes zee sex between us…So. Fucking. Amazing!"  
At this, she crashed her mouth onto Hermione's, pouring everything she had into that kiss.  
Their tongues danced. Their hands gasped at every inch they could grab of each other. Fleur shifted herself to straddle Hermione's left leg enabling her to slide her fingers into Hermione's dripping core.  
The shellshocked eyes of the brunette's slammed shut, the feeling of Fleur buried deep inside her.  
She was overcome….with feeling, with love, with desire, with arousal.  
She needed to feel her witch, even though she felt like she could barely feel herself at that moment. Pushing her hand in the little space she could find between their bodies, she entered Fleur, while Fleur continued to thrust and fuck Hermione within an inch of her life.  
They relentlessly slid in and out of one other, while kissing, passionately and frenetically. They never wanted this moment, this feeling to end. They wanted to stay locked like this, in pure bliss, forever. But their arousal won out in the end and Hermione needed to release. She came, almost violently her orgasm was so powerful. She was practically screaming into Fleur's mouth as every pent up emotion came crashing out of her.  
Fleur, watching her fiancée, her mate, come undone below her, feeling her emotion, her love, came shortly after. Her orgasm started in her breasts and quickly filled her whole body with distinct pleasure.  
The witches lay entangled in one another, panting, placing soft kisses on each other wherever they could reach following their mutual orgasms.  
"Zo ma belle. Did I answer your question adequately?"  
"I love you Fleur, and fuck yes you did! Amazing."  
"Oh ma belle, I'm glad you zink so. But we are not done. Now…I 'ave to taste you."  
**XOXOXOXOXO**  
Meanwhile, in Scotland, while Fleur and Hermione were sequestered off on their little jaunt to London, Narcissa decided to make full use of the time the peaceful respite offered.  
As such, Healer Black restocked all of her potions; she completed a healing tutorial regarding the regrowth of skeletal parts and soft tissue; and she organized the beds to allow for more patient/healer privacy for the patient instead of the "open ward" concept her predecessor preferred. Most importantly, she decided in addition to work, it was high time to shore up a few dangling things in her own personal life.  
Resolved, Cissy began her work, quietly and efficiently.  
Peaceful and productive hours ticked away, and she surprised herself by finishing her work early. She realized that on her normal schedule, between the needs of the students and faculty, and the distractions brought by her dear friends… it was rather hard to get anything done.  
Casting a satisfied glance around the much-streamlined healing ward, she sighed. Without further distractions, she realized she now had no excuse, and so she began the much harder proposition of addressing the tasks in her personal life.  
**XOXOXOXOXOX**  
Narcissa Black was nothing if not efficient, when she set her mind to it.  
Her completed list was long: the elegant blonde finally sent a long overdue owl to Andromeda, albeit after angsting over the damn thing for an unacceptably long amount of time.  
Next, she had contacted her son, Draco. For the first time in as long as she could remember, they chatted unhindered by a schedule. They did the perfunctory planning of Draco's "meet up" for lunch with her ladies; but they also had a lighthearted chat, as well. She was forced to listen, as he reveled in his various escapades with the ladies.  
"When do you plan on making poor Astoria an honest woman, dear?"  
"What, mum? I think the floo connection is a little barmy, now."  
"Hmm. Indeed. You're not fooling me, Draco, I am your mother."  
"That you are."  
"I'll let you off the hook for now, but don't think this is a tabled discussion, Mr. Malfoy…."  
"I'd expect nothing less than that from you, my brilliant mother."  
"Ah, Draco….don't you know empty flattery will get you everything?"  
They both chuckled.  
Chatting for a bit longer, it hadn't escaped her attention how effortlessly he evaded answering the Astoria question altogether.  
Next, after she finished with Draco, she went to her bedroom for her nightly "compact chat," with her beloved. Lene laughed merrily when Mama Black relayed Draco's cheeky responses, and his clear love of the ladies. The Frenchwoman questioned Cissa, only half-kidding, suggesting there was Veela lineage in the Black family tree, somewhere. She pointed out Draco seemed pretty damn "Veelaesque", to her.  
When she reminded Lene that "Veelaesque" was not actually a word, the Delacour matriarch huffed, insisting as the sovereign regent of the Veela, she was making it a word.  
When Cissa suggested that was an abuse of her power, the sovereign regent giggled, and reminded Cissa she, herself, was a member of the Noble House of Black… hence the pot was calling the kettle, well, black.  
"I see where Gaby gets her perspective." Cissa mused.  
Frowning, Narcissa's comment reminded her of her one last task, as she concluded their nightly "compact chat."  
They murmered their promises of love, whispered over the compact, to each other.  
"Lene, I'm counting down the hours until I get to hold you in my arms…"  
"I'm counting down the hours until I can do much more than that, love," Lene replied back, in a breathy voice.  
"Cheeky Veela," Cissa replied. "But…. Moi aussi, as you folks say. Sleep well, love."  
With a smile Narcissa braced herself as she gathered the things she would need for her final task of the day.  
The blonde realized she had saved this one for last for a reason. The last thing on her "to do" list was going to be the most challenging one of all. She gathered everything she needed meticulously, and sorted through her charmed wine cabinet for good measure. Reviewing her mental notes, the determined pureblood headed out, satisfied she had remembered everything.  
One might think she was actually a Gryffindor, for the bravery she mustered, as she readied herself to face her final and most daunting task.  
**XOXOXOXOX**  
" _What ze 'ell_ iz zat fucking noise? Quoi…what iz zat _banging_?"  
Gaby hollered aloud, to no one in particular. Sitting up in her bed, she pulled the satin sleep mask off her face, with a groan. The Care for Magical Creatures Professor was not happy with the noise outside her door, one that had awoken her from her beauty sleep.  
Especially since the French woman had finally fallen asleep, after a lengthy effort of restless tossing and turning!  
While she would never admit it, Gaby was recently afflicted with too frequent bouts with insomnia, as of late. Having finally actually fallen asleep, for a change, she was none too pleased at being so rudely awakened.  
"Open this door!" Gaby heard the Rude-Pounder-Of-Doors-Late-At–Night demand, outside her doorway.  
Gaby rolled out of bed, grumbling.  
Padding over to her entrance, without bothering to light her room at all, she flung open the door, furious.  
Gaby stood, in all her gorgeous fury and her wildly inappropriate state of dress, with only one eye only cocked open and her sleep mask dangling from her neck. The sleepy blonde grumbled, " _What ze fuck?_ Qui diable est-il frapper à ma porte?"  
There stood Narcissa Black, laughing so hard, she was shaking.  
Finally gasping for a breath, the Healer fully took in Gaby's unkempt form, and Narcissa Black openly laughed again, at the state of the younger professor. Her platinum blonde hair was matted down on one side, and her bangs were sticking straight up; she was wearing a camisole that barely covered her bits both up top and down below with one spaghetti strap dangling precariously off her shoulder.  
"Gaby…" was all Narcissa could manage, before she started laughing again.  
Looking disbelievingly back at her visitor, one eye open, Gaby half-mumbled, half-growled a response at her.  
"Hmmph…..and wat ze 'ell are you doing here, Cissy? Do you know what time eet iz? Eet's like…. _two in ze morning_ , beetch-face!"  
Narcissa finally managed to stop laughing. She wiped her eyes, and arched one eyebrow, bemused.  
"First of all," she raised her finger, for emphasis, "it is only _ten thirty_ in the _evening_ , Gabrielle! Secondly, and perhaps far more importantly, I hope this…." She gestured at Gaby's eveningwear, "…is not how you answer the door for all of your unexpected late night guests!"  
She tugged on the barely there cami, for emphasis.  
Gaby huffed; rubbing her eyes she yawned. "Tant mieux pour toi! So, like I said," Gaby grumbled, "….eet's _three_ in ze morning! What ze 'ell do you want?"  
Narcissa grinned. "Oh, Gabrielle Delacour, my dear…it's not what I want, young lady….it's what **you** want." She answered, cryptically.  
Gaby yawned again.  
"Please, Madame Black…refer to my earlier commentz. You know, zee one zat read: _what zee fuck_?"  
Narcissa raised a hand of protest. "Allow me to demonstrate, if you would." The healer then pulled from behind her back a dark bottle, embossed with the faded but highly distinctive label revealing its identity as a Chateau Margaux red wine.  
One of the most, if not the most, expensive and rare wines in the world was dangled in front of her.  
Rousing immediately, the sight of the precious bottle motivating Gaby's other eyelid to open, Gaby gawked with both of her eyes this time, open wide.  
Honed in on the label, Gaby licked her lips. Gone was the groggy tone, replaced by a very alert voice.  
"Hm! Well, zen! Now zat you 'ave captured my attention, az zey say, Cissy…. what can I 'elp you wiz?"  
Narcissa rolled her eyes, shaking her head at Gaby's predictability.  
Leaning in the doorway, Narcissa looked every bit a member of the Nobel House of Black, as she tilting her jaw, proudly. She looked down on the shorter blonde, and a sly smile slid across the older's face.  
"I suggest you put some robes on, first, Mademoiselle Delacour! It's cold, where we're going, tonight."  
"Hm? And where iz zat, exactly?"  
Narcissa waggled her elegant pointer finger.  
"Uh uh uh! Must come with me, to get that answer. Suffice to say, we are going to my 'secret office,' provided that you can keep it… a secret."  
Gaby righted her errant spaghetti strap, shrugging. "Oh, I can keep ze secret, Cissy. Eef eet uncorks zat rare wine, by all means, keeping a secret, eet shall be! Wait here…I'll be right back," she mumbled. Gaby darted off, as she rounded back to her bedroom, leaving a chuckling Narcissa in her wake.  
She tossed all of her previously discarded robes off the floor, looking to find something appropriate to slip on as per the demands of that night-crawling vampire still standing in her doorway.  
_Only ze English demand more clothes, not less!_ Thought Gaby to herself. _Zat's why zey are so damn uptight! Whatever…if zat iz what eet takes to open zat most expensive bottle of wine left in existence, so be eet. I'll wear ten robes! Clothes, eet iz, zen…._  
Amusing herself as she finished dressing, Gaby thought of how few bottles of the Chateau Margaux were actually left in the world. She wondered how one happened to come into the possession of Narcissa Black, but she had to admit, she was not all that surprised.  
Out loud, she mused, "Too bad zis particular bottle iz destined to be extinct, soon!"  
Giving her hair one final flounce and nodded to herself, satisfied. She grabbed her wand off her nightstand, and the blonde firecracker headed back out to Narcissa, smiling.  
Gaby was wide-awake.  
**XOXOXOXOXOXOXO**  
"Merde, merde, merde!" The blonde complained, shivering. "Tell me again…" Gaby asked, looking around the abandoned old Astronomy tower, "…why ze 'ell you would come 'ere, az a student?" Gaby asked, teeth chattering. "Waz ze Imperious Curse involved?"  
The original Astronomy classroom observation tower was now in disarray, and widely forgotten. A newer one had been erected during Narcissa's second year at Hogwarts, and quickly made the original one obsolete. Oddly enough, they never used this space, again, apparently; likely due to the difficulty in climbing the old, narrow stairwell that led to it, one would surmise.  
"No. No Imperious." Narcissa said, simply.  
Healer Black hoisted a sip of wine to her lips, looking inexplicably happy, and seemingly oblivious to the winds gusting around the exposed tower and the bitter cold that resulted.  
"I came here, my dear Gaby, because I could be assured of some actual privacy – a commodity very difficult to come by, in the Slytherin dungeons! Especially if you are the youngest of the notorious Black sisters."  
Gaby chugged half a glass of the wine, relishing it loudly.  
Without batting an eyelash, she moaned, "Fuckmewizabludger, but zat iz… so fucking good! Mmmmm." She licked the remnants of the sip, off her lips.  
Cocking an eye at Cissy, Gaby was shivering despite their warming charms, earlier. She buried herself deeper in the blanket Cissy had provided her, her teeth chattering, as she huffed, "Cissy, you know why you 'ad ze privacy? Well, let me tell you: cause eet's fucking freezing, up 'ere, you crazy loon lady!"  
Narcissa refilled her own glass, regarding Gaby with an insolent grin.  
"What, this delectable wine isn't warming you up?"  
The petulant blond shrugged, regarding her goblet, in thoughtful appreciation. She smacked her lips. "I will admit, eet iz taking ze edge off," she acquiesced.  
She took another drink, closing her eyes, afterwards. Gaby began murmuring words, in reverent tones, in French. Narcissa was pretty sure a few of them were obscenities. After a small moan, Gaby opened her eyes, and looked at her blonde companion. She said dryly, "While ze wine iz excellent, and a real warmer-upper…. I refer to my earlier conclusions. I zink you wouldn't 'ave any of ze trespassers, cold or no cold…wine or no wine….given zat eet iz _four in ze morning_ , Cissy!"  
"Again," Narcissa responded, rolling her eyes, "…it's eleven pm, Gabrielle! They just called curfew for the seventh years!"  
Gaby huffed, waving an indifferent hand.  
Narcissa continued. "And, furthermore, I think our privacy is more likely attributable to my privacy wards, than either the time of night or the cold, my dear…."  
Gaby shrugged. "Eh. More pouring, less talking. Pleaze." She mumbled, holding out the empty glass.  
As the older woman obliged, pouring the liquid delicacy into the Veela's glass, she asked a question. "Well? Aren't you curious, as to why I brought you here, Gaby?"  
"Non." Gaby said, indifferently. "I azzumed zat you stole zis bottle, or somezing such az zat, and needed to get rid of ze evidence, non?"  
Narcissa openly laughed, shocked. "No, little nutter! For that…I could just pour it down the sink, silly witch!"  
Gabrielle looked horrified.  
Her face white, she murmured, "Quelle horror! Now zat….zat would be a true crime against 'umanity! Mais alors, Narcissa…"  
"Right. I forgot wine is no joking matter to a French lady! My apologies." She grinned as they shared a drink, with Gaby moaning her enjoyment, for emphasis. Narcissa broke the silence.  
"No, Gaby, I did not bring you here to divest my contraband. Rather, I wanted to willingly share it, the bottle, with you…as well as my most secret hideaway."  
Gaby remained silent, listening.  
"You should feel honored, Ms. Delacour! I never brought anyone here…ever. Not Lucius, not Andy, or Bella…no one! This was my place, and mine alone."  
"What's ze occasion?"  
She looked at Gaby meaningfully, over her glass as she took a long drink. Musing, she said, "The occasion? well, I don't know, exactly, when I had the realization…."  
Gaby waited.  
Narcissa looked around the tower, fondly. Despite the outward appearance of shambles, to her, it was a palace. It was a place only she went. Forgotten laughter, forgotten crushes, forgotten worries about tests…it was all here. All of it. Most importantly, Narcissa realized, in this old tower were the ghosts of her siblings….her dead sister, and her discarded sister; the Black girls, in happier times. The memories lived, here in this tower.  
Turning her gaze back on Gaby, she continued.  
"I had the realization that you and I shared something, Gaby..."  
"What?"  
Narcissa smiled, knowingly. "The curse of the _youngest sister_."  
**XOXOXOXXOXOX**  
Gaby had finally broken down, and started a campfire, muttering something to the effect of "fuck zee stiff upper lip, who ever zaid zat 'as not met my frozen French arse!" It was rather nice, their little bonfire, and coupled with the cheese, crackers, and fruits Narcissa brought out, Gaby suddenly seemed to not mind being holed up in Cissy's dilapidated part of the castle.  
And more than she would care to admit, she was really enjoying the conversation. This was more than Cissy had ever shared in the entire time she had known her. Gaby had noticed, previously, that there were some topics that seemed just off limits, remaining unspoken, when Hermione was around. In spite of the fact Hermione and Narcissa clearly adored each other in the present, their past was undeniably…complicated.  
Gaby didn't have any of that baggage.  
So with the two of them, alone, Narcissa wove her tales from the past that evening. Gaby realized, they did really have a sorority of sorts…the sorority of the younger sister.  
Gaby listened, in rapt attention, as Cissy spoke.  
"…so, the Black family legend grew, much like yours, to ridiculous proportions, Gaby! While there's a kernel of truth to some of them, others are just rubbish. And so much is made of Bella…and Andy….but, people forget, that we were just children, once, too. Just like anyone else.  
My oldest sister, Bellatrix, was amazing, Gaby….just amazing. She was good at everything. She was the youngest seeker, for Slytherin; until Harry, no one was younger. She was smart, she was intimidating…she ruled this school, no question. And most of all she was just so devastatingly gorgeous.  
Next, came Andromeda. She was equally smart, equally beautiful…but her signature feature, Gaby, was that she was so effortlessly kind. People loved her…just loved her! She would defend those that couldn't defend themselves. Teachers loved her…every Slytherin loved her…hell, even the Gryffindorks loved her. She was just so…so very kind, Gaby. She made it look easy."  
"Then, came me. I was the only blonde in my entire family of brunettes. So blonde! I could have been a Delacour!" Cissy shook her head. "When we were younger, Bella used to tease me, telling me that a house elf dropped me off at the Black Manor on accident. I was supposed to go to somewhere in Sweden, according to my lovely older sister."  
"Zat's terrible!"  
"That's Bella, for you. She called me "Inga" for an entire year, Gaby."  
"Inga?" Despite herself, she burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, Cissy…zat's kind of funny."  
"That's what everyone thought. But I didn't, Gaby."  
Gaby stopped laughing, in understanding.  
"I never really found what made me special, either, in my school years. Bella and Andy…well, they cast too large of shadows, for me to overcome, so I thought. I felt…average, in a family of overachievers. So, the one thing I thought I could do right, to please my parents, was to fulfill my obligations, better than my sisters had. I would be a good pureblood wife, and mother. I gave up my dreams of being a healer, and threw myself into my role."  
Gaby took a sip, quietly, nodding. "Did it work?"  
Cissy shrugged. "Yes? No? Does it really matter, in the end? My mother died, before Draco was even born, and my father couldn't function without her, and died from a firewhiskey induced death. The Daily Prophet called it "natural causes, " whereas if he'd been poor, it would have been alcoholism. My dynamic eldest sister, whom I loved with all my heart, the great Bellatrix….she lost her mind in prison, her beauty and her soul ravaged… losing even more after prison, at the hand of the Dark Lord, the man who took advantage of her vulnerable state. I had to watch her slowly fade into crazy and it broke my heart Gaby. My other older sister, the gracious loving one, quickly grew a hard shell around her heart, as everyone she loved gave up on her, for simply following her heart.  
And in the end, all that's left Gaby, of the Most Noble House of Black, is… average little me. But that's what makes me extraordinary, Gaby. I survived. I'm still here, and I'm still me…despite the fact I was just….average."  
They toasted, and each took a long, thoughtful drink.  
"You know, I never took the Dark Mark, I never changed my views on equality, and when the time came, in the end… I was able to do the right thing, when it came to Harry. I wasn't just trying to save Draco, I was trying to save Harry, too. For Harry."  
She paused, gathering herself. She spoke, reverently. "Lily Potter was… my friend." She said, lip quivering. "I owed it… to her. To Lily."  
Gaby said nothing, just reached over, to hold Cissy's hand, and squeezed it. Taking a very concluding breath, she took a full drink of wine, and straightened her shoulders.  
"So, that leads me to here…now. With you, and our shared curse, Gabrielle Delacour! Protest all you want, but I understand you, a lot better than you think I do. While I would never insinuate that we had the traditional "hand-me-down," growing up in such obscenely well-to-do families like ours…I have this notion there is such a think as the figurative hand me down."  
"Meaning, what, exactly?"  
"Meaning…as the youngest, nothing is ever really yours. Anything. And that sentiment is universal, from the poorest family to the wealthiest. By that, I mean, things such as expectations….there was always someone there first, before you. Coming from families such as ours, with high expectations…well, that doesn't feel very good, that nothing you ever had to offer was original, ever...does it? Adding to that, Merlin's Beard…. if they were accomplished siblings, such as the ones we had? Well, the constant comparison can sometimes…"  
"…be harsh." Gaby finished, grimly. "Exhausting."  
"Yes. Something like that. So, when one grows up with a lifetime of being second best, or third best, or whatever…in your own family, where you should feel safe, and loved, and special…when you don't, it takes a toll on you. So you grow up, and what happens? Well, when you finally have or find something of your own, truly your own? You hold on to that true, unique thing, with everything you've got. Because for the first time, it is …yours. And only yours."  
"But ze whole time," Gaby added knowingly, "you wait for ze rug to be pulled out from above you…"  
"From under you, Gaby…" Narcissa corrected, gently.  
"Under, over, whatz ze difference? I'm French, we don't care! We'll take it eizzer way!"  
They both laughed.  
"What I'm trying to say, Gaby," she said, getting serious again, and tapping on Gaby's face. Gaby had realized the direction this was headed, and began a subtle pout. "Is that it's a natural tendency to be afraid your thing, or things, will be taken from you…and it really stings when it's the people who have always taken things from you."  
Gaby winced.  
"But you know what else I realized?"  
"You need to pour me more of ze wine?"  
"No, you glutton!" She said, obliging and pouring it anyway. "What I realized is this: I let my insecurities cloud my true vision. You see, I was looking at it all wrong, Gaby; and frankly, you are, too."  
"What do you mean?" She asked, defensively.  
"Well, first, our perception is colored by who we are. It seems hard to be the judged younger sister…but can I tell you, it's probably worse to be the trailblazing older one? You have to cut down the weeds, and blaze the trail. And you take all of the heat, not just all of the credit. Look, the burden of that responsibility…it made my sister a maniac, borderline crazy, and a murderer…and ultimately, dead. If Fleur fails, as the heir apparent, it won't just be your parents that are disappointed, but your entire flock, and to some extent, the entire Veela world. That's a lot of eyes, Gaby. You don't really get to be a teenager, you know? You fuck up, Gaby, and it was just your parent's disappointment. But that's much fewer eyes, I suspect."  
Gaby hadn't thought of it that way.  
"Secondly, I know you. You're secretly pissed that your two friends have intertwined with your two closest family members. Suddenly, you're no longer the conduit between these two worlds - they've now blended into one. Worse, you feel like they've blended…without you. How can you not feel…left on the outside, looking in? Especially now, in the beginning?  
Adding salt to the wound, I'm sure you feel guilty for feeling that way…having it drilled into your head since birth, about your heritage and the revered "Veela mate pair" and how rare and wonderful it is; you're happy, sure…but it's normal to be resentful, and abandoned, Gaby. Really…it is."  
Gaby had a pained expression on her face, Narcissa being far too perceptive.  
"But you're wrong for thinking that way. You're thinking is … dyslexic. By that, I mean you're approaching this as though you're losing your best friend to your sister…."  
"Or my best friend, to my mozzer," Gaby added.  
Narcissa nodded. "Or mother," she acknowledged. "Or worse…both! But instead of looking at it as though you've lost your friend to your sister, can't you look at it like …now you inherited another sister? Like a… bonus sister?"  
She looked at Gaby meaningfully.  
"Hmm." Gaby mused.  
Narcissa continued, quietly. "Or, hopefully, think of it as though you gained, um…a bonus, well, mother? Do you think you could reframe it, that way?"  
Gaby remained silent.  
"Look, Gabrielle…the thing about family is this: like it or not, you're stuck with them. They might kill people…like my sister did. They might beat you…like my father did. Whomever they are, you're stuck with them, because, well...they're your family. But, in your situation, not only are you gaining another sister, and another mother, well…you actually like them! You like your family, Gaby! How rare is that?"  
Gaby's head was down.  
"Better yet Gaby, now you have a sister, who loves you for you—and you know that! She doesn't love you because she has no other choice. Hermione chose to love you, Gaby. First and foremost. I chose to love you."  
Gaby looked at Narcissa, pained.  
"But you're not my mother," she said, passionately. "You're my friend, Cissy! You've been my friend. One of my only true friends…someone not affected by my thrall, and someone who loves me…for me."  
Cissy looked at her, evenly, understanding Gaby's concern.  
"And…how has that changed, exactly? I still see you. I still love you. I still get you drunk on my expensive wines. You're still a pain in the arse, Gabrielle. And you know what? You're still my friend, Gaby, and always will be."  
"But…." She struggled.  
"But what?"  
"But, how can I do zings….swear, and fart, and flip off…my mozzer? Impossible!"  
"Oh for fucks sakes," Narcissa huffed. "Is that what all this nonsense is about? You think you're going to have to censor yourself, around me? Because I'll be your step-mother?"  
"My mozzer….iz a very proper lady. And expects me to be one, too."  
Narcissa snorted.  
"Gaby? I'm going to let you in on a little secret or two," she put her arm around Gaby, very matter of fact. "Firstly, little blondeness, your mother is anything but a proper lady… trust me on this one."  
Gaby made a gagging gesture.  
"Secondly, your mother is a lot smarter than you give her credit for. While Lene hopes you will be a proper lady, Lene also never expects you to be... she knows that's just who you are, Gaby. And she loves you, regardless."  
Gaby looked mildly surprised.  
"Finally, Gaby, and most importantly…you're never going to lose me. No matter what becomes of Lene and I…you were my friend first. And you will always be my friend, no matter what becomes of other things around us. That won't change."  
"Good, because I feel weird, 'aving 'felt up' my soon to be mozzer."  
"Felt up, felt down….what haven't you groped on me, you inappropriate thing, you?" They both laughed. "Look, Gaby, if you started acting like a 'proper lady' around me? God help me, if you stopped trying to fondle me inappropriately, or stopped trying to steal my liquor, or stopped pranking me by sending students faking aliments to my ward? If you stopped doing this…these things? End of days, Gaby! If you stopped doing those things, then, I'd sign myself in to St. Mungo's because that's how I'd know I'm addled, and my reality was gone, and I was surely going insane if not there, already. Listen…and I mean this: Don't ever stop being exactly who you are….not with me! Don't you know, it makes me laugh, it makes me happy, it makes our friendship what it is….because, it's what makes you…you, Gaby. It's part of the reason I love you, so…and I wouldn't want it any other way."  
Gaby allowed an unguarded smile to unabashedly over take her face. Grinning, she pumped her fist in the air, not knowing what to do, exactly. Finally, she grew a teasing glint on her face, and she reached over, towards Cissy. With a "whoop!" she hoisted her arm up, and swung it down, striking Narcissa on the ass!  
Hard.  
Cissy sighed, merely shaking her head.  
"Well, that didn't take long." Cissy acknowledged.  
"Yeah, well….I'm glad we 'ad zis little chattidy-chat, Cissy." Gaby said, feeling much better. With a grin, she demanded, "Now, stop changing ze subject! Pour me some more wine, Cissy, tout suite!"  
They drank and snacked, while chatting some more. Finally Gaby turned to the older woman, and looked reticent again, all of a sudden.  
Quietly, she asked, "Cissy?"  
"Yes, dear?"  
"Do you zink….I mean, well…are you going to bring 'ermione up 'ere, az well?"  
The air was still, while the question sunk in.  
"Hermione Granger?" Narcissa clarified, asking incredulously. " _Hermione?_ Are you kidding me? **Only** children…. are like…I don't know. Easily five times worse than _older sisters_ , I dare say!"  
"Oh? Okay…well, uh. I see, zen."  
Gaby couldn't explain why, but she felt like it was Christmas, a month early, and felt oddly pleased.  
Sitting in the long forgotten Astronomy tower, Narcissa Black winked at Gabrielle Delacour, and the two shared a mutual unspoken understanding, as they sipped their wine, together, watching the stars, and simply enjoying each other's company.  
And for the first time since all this started happening – her worlds started colliding – Gaby felt loved and truly happy, again.  
**XOXOXOXOXOXOXXO**

 

“Zo, are zee Maid and ze Man of Honor, Gaby and ‘arry, respectively, still ze plan?”  
“Yes! And, did we finally decide that our escorts would be Cissy and your Maman…?”  
“Well, yes, I believe we did decide zis. But ‘Ermione, are you sure zat your fathzer does not expect to escort you down zee isle?” inquired Fleur.  
“Yes, I’m sure. It’s just…well, you saw us Fleur. It’s not our way…” explained Hermione. “I’d really like it to be Cissy and your Maman. It’s rather perfect, don’t you agree?”  
“Oui…” Fleur said, understanding on one hand, but not understanding on the other.  
“But bloody hell, that makes me feel so guilty about Ron and Gin, Fleur! Ugh, this is so hard!”  
Hard topics were much easier to discuss, however, with a naked gorgeous woman in your bed, apparently. They had been going at this for almost two hours already, but they soldiered on, continuing to work through the nuts and bolts of the wedding planning, and other administrative ‘life’ matters, while they sipped a second cup of coffee and tea, apiece.  
In bed, still.  
Naked, still.  
Even sheer nakedness couldn’t lobotomize that rather large brain of Hermione’s working on overtime, her intelligent eyes scanning the guest list, ascertaining any problems, and quickly frowning.  
“Okay, we cannot invite your entire seventh year class of Beauxbatons, Fleur!”  
The Veela huffed at Hermione’s frazzled statement, her own feathers clearly ruffled, as well. Fortunately, they were the figurative ones, and mercifully not the literal ones.  
“I never said ze damn entire class de Beauxbatons, ‘ermione!” She puffed. “I said ze contingent zat went to ‘ogwarts wiz me, een my seventz year! Weren’t you listening, at all?”  
Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose, willing and channeling the patience of Albus Dumbledore, in this moment.  
After she took a calming breath, she calmly replied, “yes, Fleur, but that’s still roughly forty-two or forty-three people, and their ‘plus ones,’ dear. That’s eighty people, Fleur.”  
“I am familiar wiz ‘ow ze matz works, ‘ermione.”  
“Okay, then…do you remember how we discussed a sum total of fifty people, max?”  
Fleur waved her hand in the air. “Bah! I did not discuss zat! You discussed zat. Maman discussed zat. ‘ell, even Cissy discussed zat, and last I checked, zis iz not ‘er damn wedding, c’est vrai?” Fleur said, seething.  
“Okay, Fleur. Okay.” Hermione took her hands, gently, trying to soothe her.  
One would think this would be a happy occasion, discussing their guest list, and very relaxed, given the fact they had literally fucked each other for hours, sating every last possible ounce of sexual desire with an obscene number of orgasms, but alas…it was apparently not the case.  
Hermione had to continuously remind herself of three facts.  
One: she was marrying a… French lady.  
Two: she was marrying a…. Veela.  
And finally, number three: she was marrying a Delacour.  
Ergo, Hermione realized, an inherent flaw to the whole “calm, relaxed discussion,” motif, by definition. Marrying a French Veela Delacour…and the heir apparent, for good measure.  
Those intrinsic characteristics all but guaranteed that Hermione’s well-reasoned arguments drawn from actual facts and metrics, didn’t stand a chance.  
“Look, zey supported me, ‘ermione, during a rough time een my life. We ‘ave all remained close, and I ‘ave been invited to all of zeir weddings!”  
“—Because you’re the next in line, Fleur, to command your flock!” Interjected Hermione. “It’s a formality! Even Apolline said so!”  
“Bah!” Fleur waved her off. “What does she know what my girlz and I went through, wiz zem? She does not know our ‘earts, our friendships, ‘ermione! She only judges and makes assumptionsz, from ‘er podium up ‘igh!”  
Hermione rolled her eyes. She all but expected Fleur to raise a tattered, bloody Beauxbaton flag in the air, staking it to the ground in their bedroom a la _Les Misrables_.  
Sensing she was not getting the traction she desired, Fleur changed tactics.  
“Besides, you keep on insisting on inviting every damn Weasley you’ve ever met in your life, ‘ermione! Merde! I zink ze Beauxbatons number ‘alf of ze Ginger Contingent on your side of ze aisle!”  
“My side of the aisle?” Hermione gasped, indignant. This finally pushed Hermione too unreasonably far. Her temper began to flare. “My side…really, Fleur? What…you’re telling me you _don’t_ consider **any** of the Weasley family…your family, or as your friends?”  
Fleur waivered, sensing the fallacy in her argument. However, the Veela can be very stubborn, and even more so when their gumption is up.  
“Let’z be ‘onest. Zey are coming for you, ‘ermione…not me.”  
“Oh, this is rich!” Scoffed Hermione. “Yeah, they’re all coming for me…cause I’d sure as hell invite....” She fumbled, pulling up the parchment with their tentative list written on the scroll, scanning it, finally pointing to a name. “Oh, yes, here it is! Yes, him. Bill Weasley!” Hermione pointed at his name, for emphasis. “Yeah, Fleur…. I’d sure as hell invite him to my wedding, you’re right! ‘Cause I need more reminders of where my future wife has been…who she’s fucked, who she married and such, before she married me!”  
The room stilled, immediately, both witches taken aback.  
Her words had been as painful as a slap, as evidenced by Fleur’s stunned, quickly morphing into wounded, expression. However, she was a Veela, and so Fleur Delacour held her head up proudly, lips pursed, refusing to acknowledge how much that actually cut her, deeply.  
She responded in a cold, distant tone. “Zat fact will never change, ‘ermione, nor will ze fact ‘e iz one of my friends still, and will remain so. I ‘ave not been dis’onest regarding zat fact.”  
Hermione ran a shaky hand through her just-been-fucked hair, and looked at Fleur, feeling immediately remorseful, and ashamed. More so now, given their bond was becoming incredibly strong at sensing the other’s emotions. Hermione knew how much she had hurt her mate.  
“I…I’m sorry, Fleur. That was…totally out of line. I’m sorry.”  
Fleur’s eyes narrowed, slightly. “Oui….bien. And might I point out zat you, yourself, ‘ave invited your own Weasley ex-boyfriend, non?”  
And just like that, they became volatile, once again.  
Hermione’s jaw set, as she gritted out, “Yes, Fleur…” in a suspiciously patronizing tone, “…but again, may I remind you…I did not marry him, unlike you and Bill Weasley!” Hermione pulled the sheet up, around her exposed, naked body, defensively.  
The challenge and the hurt felt were both evidenced in her deep brown gaze.  
When Fleur saw the pain on her mate’s face, it diffused her, immediately.  
“Oh, ‘ermione…” she whispered, grabbing her, and enveloping her in her arms. “What just ‘appened to us?”  
Hermione closed her eyes, shaking her head. Her voice, normally so sure, sounded hesitant.  
“I…I don’t…know, exactly.”  
“Ma Belle,” Fleur said, clasping Hermione’s face, on both sides, gazing deeply into the wounded brown ones as she spoke. “Ma beautiful one, zis iz … ridiculous! I zink nothing of eet…who comes, or not. Why? Because everyzing in my life iz nozzing, until now! Until you. Don’t you know zat? Nozzing…nozzing can compare to you, ‘ermione.”  
She hugged the trembling woman, tightly.  
“I forget zat you are so new to zis…to zis passion, ze devotion of a Veela. Eet iz totalement fou, to even compare anyone…anyzing … to you., ‘ermione!” Fleur shook her head resolutely, speaking with utter conviction. “Nozzing! Nozzing… iz az important to me, Belle, as you.”  
Hermione sighed, nodding. “I know that, Fleur… I do. I know it…on an intellectual level. But emotionally, Fleur, it’s sometimes hard to remember that…”  
Fleur nuzzled into her neck, murmuring, “Perhaps I shall ‘ave to … remind you, a little…oui?”  
Hermione face palmed her, chuckling. “Back! Back, you horny Veela!”  
Fleur, Hermione’s hand pushing against her forehead, staged mock indignation. Eyes widening, she theatrically sputtered, “Allez savoir pourquoi…you reject me, ma mate? Quoi?”  
“Stop it, Goof…look, I know what you’re about, woman! This,” she rebuffed another incoming hand, swatting it gently. “All this? Fleur, I know it’s merely to distract me from the fact you want to invite 200 Veela to our wedding!”  
“Not two ‘undred!” She insisted. “Just zee ones—“  
Hermione groaned, interrupting. “—from Hogwart’s, yes, dear! I got that. But my love? We need to be realistic. Look...uh, all of your Veela pack are going to be there, at the Veela sacred grounds, right? When we bond…”  
“Yes,” Fleur acknowledged, with a tiny smile.  
“So, just keep in mind that at our more mundane, everyday, wizard wedding…we have a venue that will seat, perhaps 100 guests, including us in that number, comfortably.”  
Fleur grumbled something.  
“What was that, dear?” Hermione asked, leaning forward.  
“I said,” Fleur bit out, “zat zis is crazy! Damn fucking crazy ‘orse manure!”  
Hermione looked a little startled. “Uh, what exactly, is the horse manure, you reference, Fleur?”  
The Veela gripped Hermione by the arms, shaking her just a tad. “I found you, ‘ermione. I love you, ‘ermione.”  
“Er…yes? Hence, the wedding, and such….”  
“No, stop mocking me! I’m serious, ‘ere, ‘ermione! I want to shout it from the rooftops, ‘ow much I love you! Zat you are ma mate!”  
Realization finally dawned on Hermione. “Oh, Fleur…I love you.”  
“And I love you, too, ‘ermione!” The Veela huffed, in utter exasperation. “Don’t you see why I am so frustrated, zen? I vant to show you off, to everyone! Share our love….”  
Hermione leaned over, giving Fleur a calming peck on the nose.  
“Fleur, darling? You know I’m a private person by nature, right?” Hermione began, gently. She grasped Fleur’s balled up fist, un-balling it, and grasping on. “So if it’s for me, well, don’t…I don’t need it. However, if you’re doing for you, for the purposes of ‘announcing to the world your claim on me, again I say…don’t.”  
Hermione smiled, in earnest, this time.  
“Fleur, I doubt highly there’s anyone in Europe or beyond that isn’t well aware that your love for me would literally fill 50 cathedrals…and no wedding ceremony is going to change that fact, in any manner!” She stoked Fleur’s cheek, looking at her enamored Veela, just gazing at her reverently.  
“But, on the other hand,” Hermione continued, “if you’re doing it for you …well that’s another story all together. If that’s the case, I will dig my heels in, right alongside you, with my full effort! I will pitch a fit, and demand a bigger venue, so you won’t have to, dear.“ She cupped Fleur’s chin, regarding the thoughtful expression on Fleur’s face, as the blonde processed the entirety of what Hermione had said, and meant.  
After a moment of Fleur’s rather deep thinking, she was interrupted by her Englishwoman.  
“So, what’s say, love? What’s your answer?”  
Fleur hung her head, low. She mumbled, barely audible, “I zink…I zink zat I am being… selfish, oui?”  
Hermione frowned. “How you figure, love?”  
“Well, I am being selfish, because I don’t vant to feel guilty, ‘ermione. A larger wedding…well, it would appease my guilty consciousness zat you ‘ave ze wedding you’ve always dreamt of…zee one you should ‘ave and…”  
“--Fleur Isabelle Delacour!” Hermione interrupted, irate. “Stop that, right now! The wedding I always dreamt of, actually, is one wherein someone truly loves me for me…and honors that! Never once in my musings did I consider the census for my wedding attendees.“  
Hermione grinned wickedly, as she added a final comment.  
“And I will tell you truthfully, in my past imaginings…when I thought of a wedding for myself, if even I did…” Hermione cast her eyes downward, a blush creeping on her face. Looking up finally, she admitted, “Well, in those rare moments…I never thought the person I would be standing across the alter from, well that they would be so fucking gorgeous in reality that I could hardly breathe looking at them, and that they would be endowed with such…assets.”  
She could not help it. She giggled. And then acknowledged which specific assets by reaching over and grabbing Fleur’s glorious, full and still very naked breasts, with force, and squeezed, in a massaging motion.  
Now it was Fleur Isabelle’s turn to flush, lightly.  
“Mmmmmmmmmmmm…” she growled.  
Seeing her Veela get worked up, Hermione dropped her hands, deciding she needed to keep some semblance of order.  
Clearing her throat and shaking her head a little, using her most Professor-esque voice, she suggested they got back to the task at hand. Picking up the parchment, Hermione swaddled up both of them in the purple-green duvet, and rested her head on Fleur.  
“Why don’t we brainstorm a mutual 20 people that we can agree on, ones that we consider mandatory? Then we can start adding in folks to the pile, okay?”  
“D’accord.”  
**XOXOXOXOXOXXO**  
To no one’s surprise, their first road block was a…surprise.  
“What do you mean, c’est fou, I mean, really ‘ermione….’ow could you consider NOT inviting _Andromeda Black_?”  
“Well for one thing, she’s a doppelganger of her older demented sister, and I don’t want to go into shock at my own wedding every time my sight line falls on her, rather.”  
“You do know that’s lunacy? I mean _Narcissa was actually zere_ …in **ze room**! Wiz you and Bellatrix! And you see **Cissy** every day, wizout problems!”  
“Yeah, but…that’s Narcissa.” Hermione offered as a complete lack of explanation.  
Fleur looked at her as though she had just escaped St. Mungoes, causing Hermione to frown.  
“Zat makes no sense, ‘ermione. She iz ze mozzer of my partner! One of ze good guys, remember? Alors…she iz ze grandmozzer of my Godson.”  
“Wait…you’re Teddy’s Godparent?”  
“Oui! Along wiz ‘arry, of course. Wiz ze work zat we do, eet’s always good to ‘ave a back up, right?”  
Hermione was still stuck on the fact Fleur was a _Godparent._ “You’re a Godparent?” She clarified.  
Fleur was becoming insulted, slightly. “Look, Tonks trusts me. She knows I’ll take good care of her child. And I figure, eh? What’s one more? Add eet to zee pack!”  
“Zee pack?” Hermione clarified, face ashen white. “Pack of… _what_? Pack of …uh, Veela?”  
Fleur shook her head, grinning merrily. “Non, you cheeky witch! No, **our** brood!”  
“Brood? Of…uh.... _children_?”  
“Oui, zat one.”  
Hermione swallowed. “I see.” Hermione busied herself looking over her list, mumbling. After the mumblings grew louder, she finally imploded. “Fleur…”  
“Oui?”  
“Fleur, you do realize I’m a simple muggleborn, right?”  
Fleur grinned. “I realize zat your are a muggleborn, but I also realize you’re ‘ardly…simple.”  
“No, I’m being serious, here. Looking at this guest list, this who’s who of British and French society, hell…it looks like we’re have a pureblood wedding! To my slight horror, even Draco Malfoy will be there! Uggggh!” She groaned.  
Grabbing the parchment she cast a spell to ‘uncross out’ a previous marked out guest.  
“Fuck, if we’re having the entire Nobel House of Black,” reasoned Hermione, “then I can at least invite my pureblood friend!”  
“Who did you uncross?”  
“Pansy Parkinson.”  
Fleur looked confused. “Who ze ‘ell iz zis Patty Parkinson?”  
“Pansy,” Hermione corrected. “Not Patty.”  
“Pansy, Patty, Pussy, who cares? Who iz zis witch?”  
“Well, she was in Slytherin, you see, so you probably didn’t know her, or remember her all that well---“  
\--“Wait a minute…Mon Dieu! She iz zat pug nosed ‘orror show zat nearly turned over ‘arry Potter, in ze war, to Voldemort, isn’t she? What the ‘ell?”  
Hermione blushed at the criticism, unused to having to defend her choices to Fleur, generally. “Well, I, uh…you see, she changed, a lot…. And I got to know her well, in the year I went back to school. She was my, uh, potions partner, and we became…uh, close…”  
Fleur’s eyes narrowed. She did not like this one bit.  
Hermione’s uncharacteristic stuttering and evasiveness? Her blushing? A random name Fleur herself did not know? It didn’t add up. In the recesses of her mind, she always remembered Hermione admitting the fact that while ‘she never really realized she could be attracted to females, until she became Fleursexual, there had been this “one time” that she had a flash of attraction to another woman, somebody horribly wrong.’ Hermione guarded the name of that person, furiously, and to this day had never admitted it to Fleur.  
Of course, the Veela’s mind went immediately to this Pansy Parkinson, this obscure name that Hermione pulled out of her past. Salope!  
Fleur’s eyes narrowed. She spoke, with a frighteningly composed voice. “I think, ‘ow you say, ‘ermione…the lady doth protest, too much, n’est-ce pas?”  
Hermione’s eyes widened. “What?”  
“You ‘eard me.”  
Now, Hermione’s eyes were the ones that looked angry. “No, I rather think I didn’t hear you correctly, Fleur! Because what I’m hearing sounds an awful lot like you’re accusing me of something, with Pansy Parkinson, of all people!”  
“Well, eef ze shoe fits? Is she your ‘inappropriate lust’ or ‘crush’ or ‘attraction’ from ze past, zat one time, you ‘ave never revealed to me?”  
“What?” Spluttered Hermione, turning even more red. “N-No, no! Pansy? No!”  
Fleur just looked at her, evenly.  
“Fleur, you’re being absurd! Merlin’s beard, Fleur…you think…for fuck’s sake, Fleur? Pansy?” Hermione laughed, nervously. “Bollocks, Fleur! Pansy lives with her girlfriend, Katie!”  
Fleur’s mouth dropped open, then she said evenly, “I zee. So, she’s ze _gay_ lady, zen?”  
“Uh…yes.”  
“And ze Auror in me noticed, ‘ermione, zat you did not _deny_ your attraction to ‘er, instead, you deflect eet by saying zis Patty is wiz someone else, instead…”  
“Pansy.”  
“What?”  
“Pansy. Her name is _Pansy_. You called her ‘Patty.’ I …oh, hell!”  
“You don’t deny, eet, zen?”  
“What? No! I mean…yes! Damn it, Fleur, you’ve got me all flustered!”  
Fleur remained silent, merely looking at her, appraisingly.  
“Stop it, Fleur!” Hermione was growing angry. “This is silly!”  
“Ees eet, zen? What iz it zat you are trying to say?”  
Hermione frowned. “Oh, no you don’t, Auror Delacour! I recognize the tactics! Now, you’re asking me an open-ended question, hoping to catch me in a lie!”  
“What are you lying about, zen?” She asked, cooly.  
Fleur had moved her body away from Hermione’s, her posture erect, and her gaze penetrating. Hermione realized in this moment why Fleur was an excellent Auror, among other things. She was rather intimidating, even stark naked.  
“Fleur, stop it! Okay, let me call this what this is! You’re feeling insecure…”  
“Excusez-moi? I am nozzing of ze sort!”  
“Yes, you are, Fleur.” Hermione pointed out, practically. “Because this is someone that you don’t know, who is a um, a lesbian, and your mind races to fill in the blanks of my last year at Hogwarts, after Harry and Ron left and I was there alone. You know…the year you were married to someone else?”  
She couldn’t resist, and Fleur frowned.  
“Stop deflecting, ‘ermione. We’ve already established I waz married, previously. Now… Continue.” The Veela demanded, folding her arms across her chest.  
Hermione looked her directly in the eyes, and spoke firmly. “I am not attracted to Pansy Parkinson…at all. Not now, or ever, Fleur!”  
“Hm.” Fleur said, unconvinced. “Yet, you seem…uncomfortable.”  
Hermione thought about it, for a moment. “Yes, I suppose I am.”  
“Why iz zat?”  
“Several reasons, Fleur. First of all, I am not used to you interrogating me, suspiciously, like I’m one of your criminals your’e interrogating. I think I deserve more that that, and I’m angry about it, and hurt, frankly….”  
Fleur nodded, in understanding, but kept her arms folded.  
“Uh…secondly, Fleur, I think it’s because Pansy did…. Uh, try, once or twice…to test the waters…”  
“What?” Fleur screeched, flying into an immediate fury.  
Hermione put a reassuring arm on Fleur’s leg.  
“Fleur, calm down, and let me finish! Please!” She waited until Fleur stopped muttering in French. “As I was saying, early on, Pansy tried…and was immediately rejected. Fortunately, she was able to laugh it off, and not be insulted…and our friendship grew, from that. It was actually a sort of big moment for her, because she realized she could be actually attracted to a mudblood, sexually.”  
Fleur’s nostrils flared.  
“No, calm it, Veela! Let me finish, you scary thing, you! So as I said, when she realized she could feel that for someone she had been taught all her life was ‘lower’ than her, and sub-human, really…it shocked her. Scared her. She tried to run away, but I went after her. From that, something bigger grew. I helped her laugh it off, and from that, something really much bigger than a quick, indecent potential snog developed…a true, real friendship grew. And I’m really proud of that, Fleur. You know why?”  
“Why?” Fleur asked, neutrally.  
“Because anyone can have a momentary fleeting attraction to someone wrong for them, Fleur…even act on it in some cases. But just as quickly, they could write it off, and ignore it, and never look deeper than that. I didn’t let Pansy do that, Fleur, I didn’t let her dismiss me, as a passing mudblood attraction. No!” Hermione grinned, proud of herself. “I made her look at me. Look at who I was, and what I am…beyond what status I was born into, rather.” Hermione raised her jaw proudly.  
Fleur nodded, slowly, in understanding.  
“And to her credit, Fleur, she rose to the challenge. We became great mates, together, in Potions class; in fact, we both aced our NEWT’s! She stood up to her parents, for me, on more than one occasion; she’s been a loyal friend ever since. And when she was nearly disowned for falling in love with Katie? She came to me, crying, because Katie was away with her own parents. I’m…rather proud of that, actually. I was her friend, in need.”  
Fleur could help let the tiny grin escape, proud of her crusading mate, envisioning her stomping up to the Pure Blooded Parkinson parents, doing something insane like demanding the freedom from persecution of their oppressed daughter, with a 50-foot parchment oratory, or something…wearing them down, in the process.  
“Zat’s good, I suppose…”  
Hermione frowned. “You suppose? I pour my heart out, and all I get is an ‘I suppose?’ Look, she’s not attracted to me now, she herself is in love! And I’ve never been attracted to her…ever! If anything, she reaffirmed for me that I was straight! I swear! Not even in one tiny fleeting lapse-of-judgment infinitesimal moment, I swe—“  
“Zen who?” Fleur demanded, insistently.  
Hermione groaned. “Not this, again!”  
Fleur snorted.  
“I am Veela, ‘ermione,” Fleur proclaimed, firmly, as though it explained everything. “I will never let zat go.”  
“Please…” Hermione said, pleading gently.  
“No. Who waz eet?”  
Hermione looked away, eyes pained; it softened the Veela considerably. She touched Hermione’s arm, softly.  
“Oh, ‘ermione…what ‘appened? Did zey…reject you? You…well, I don’t like zis, ‘ermione, zis ‘urt you still obviously feel! Did zey wound you? Who did zis, to you?” She asked, voice laced with overprotectiveness.  
Hermione turned back to Fleur, eyes filled with shame and the beginning of tears. She opened her mouth, then shut it, again, remaining silent.  
“’ermione?” Fleur asked, concerned, tilting her head.  
Hermione didn’t respond, merely shaking her head, and closing her eyes. It was as though she was willing away a memory, and trembled, almost unnoticed.  
“What iz eet, ‘ermione?” Fleur was growing angry at this unnamed person.  
Hermione shook her head, again. “It’s…well. When I said it was inappropriate, I meant…it was really inappropriate.” She laughed, bitterly.  
Fleur rubbed her arms, remaining silent.  
“But,” sighed Hermione, “if its going to cause this rift between us, for the rest of our married days…I suppose I should tell you…”  
“No, ‘ermione.” Insisted Fleur. “Eet iz not important. I was being childish. You don’t ‘ave to tell me anyzing, and in fact, I must apologize to –“  
“Bellatrix.” Hermione cut her off. “It was Bellatrix.” She looked away, tears now actually falling.  
“What?” Fleur asked, shocked. “Ce que l'enfer? Il a été son…Bellatrix Lestrange?” She said, in disbelief.  
“Yes,” Hermione said, eyes downward, growing red, again. “Yes…her. That. When I said there was this moment…” she stopped, taking a choked gasp of air. Her eyes looked up at Fleur, filled with so much pain. “This moment, before she cursed me with dozens of Crucios, before she started…carving into my arm…”  
Hermione chocked back a sob.  
“…there was this— _moment_ , for lack of a better word, when she was on top of me, and had me pinned underneath her…breathing against my neck, and…rubbing against me…”  
Fleur winced, slightly, along with Hermione’s own shudder.  
“…when she gripped my arms tightly…when I felt.... it.”  
“It?” Fleur asked, gently.  
“ **It**. Her attraction. I felt her nipples, erect, as they grazed against me…and I felt the heat between her legs, as she slid across my body. I realized, then, that she was getting aroused by _this_ …by me, and what she was doing to me.”  
Hermione collected herself. “And then I heard it…she let the tiniest of moans escape. In that moment, I grew wet, Fleur, aroused; for the first time ever. I was aroused by this…lunatic, and what she was doing to me!”  
Fleur swallowed. “What ‘appened, next?” She asked, gently.  
Hermione paused, stammering. “Th-then, I made the mistake of looking up…of meeting her gaze. Our eyes connected. I saw it…the desire, evident in her eyes.”  
Hermione swallowed again.  
“When she realized that I realized it, this…her _desire_ …she grew furious! Insanely furious! That’s when she sprung off of me, pushing away, and hit me with the first of many Crucios, that evening…”  
Hermione sobbed, and Fleur immediately took her into her arms, murmuring gentle reassurances, kissing the top of her head. Hermione buried herself deep in Fleur’s arms, clutching her.  
Hermione finally pulled away, slightly calmer, as she looked up at Fleur, eyes loaded with shame. “And after that, nothing ever seemed to excite me, in bed, sexually. Then…you, Fleur! I thanked my lucky stars, that I felt more than I’d ever felt in my entire life, with you, in your arms. But I’m so angry with myself… I always think about it… that split second of utter wrongness, Fleur. That moment that goes against everything I believe to be right…pinned underneath her, being aroused….and I have wondered on and off, what is wrong with me?” Her voice trembled. “What the fuck is _wrong_ with me, Fleur?”  
Fleur knew, and thought how best to approach the answer with the trembling girl in her arms.  
Finally, she gripped each of Hermione’s upper arms, and tossed her down on the bed, slamming her own body against Hermione’s.  
“Zere iz nozzing wrong wiz you, ‘ermione, and what you want…”  
“What I want?” She said, in a weak voice.  
“Yes. What you want.” Fleur’s voice rasped, as she pressed her core against Hermione’s center. Hands encircling Hermione’s upper arms, she gripped them tighter, and the Veela smiled. She could feel Hermione’s wetness, between her legs, as she ground into her with more pressure between her legs. “…eets obvious, to me.”  
Hermione stammered out, “…and what is that, exactly?”  
“Eet’s nozzing to be afraid of, ‘ermione!” Reassured the blonde, confidently, mounted on top of her. “Or ashamed of…! Despite your experience to ze contrary….”  
Fleur leaned over, hovering above Hermione…dangerously close. With a tiny growl, she moved closer to the trembling woman, and bent forward, licking Hermione’s neck. The sudden warmth and unexpected wetness caused a tremble to ripple through the younger woman’s body, ending at its final destination at the place growing increasingly moist for the teasing woman above her.  
Fleur pressed her lips against Hermione’s ear, husking in a hot breath, “You, my dear…” she paused, breathing against her earlobe; her warm breath like silk and eliciting a flurry of goose bumps everywhere on the brunette’s body, “…like to not be ‘ze brains’ of ze trio, every once in awhile, I zink. I zink zat…every once in awhile, eet’s nice for you to not be in charge…not in control…”  
Unwittingly, a moan escaped Hermione’s mouth. “Mmmm…” Hermione couldn’t tell if she was agreeing, denying, acknowledging…or just melting into a hot mess, altogether.  
Fleur’s fingers dug harder into Hermione’s arms. Her firm hold rendered the Englishwoman completely immobile.  
Fleur’s voice rasped, even lower in tone. Eyes lidded, she murmured, “And eet iz unfortunate, zat your…realization, of zis desire….. waz met wiz such an unfortunate end. Because…”  
The Veela stopped speaking, instead kissing her, hard. Fleur’s lips became insistent…relentless…seeking ownership of Hermione’s mouth, while she pressed her body harder against Hermione’s. The Veela’s grip however never waivered, while holding on to her arms, keeping her in place.  
Fleur’s mouth pressed, and her tongue entered Hermione’s own, firmly establishing her dominance. Hermione moaned, arching closer into Fleur, wanting to be closer. Deeper…  
After a few more painfully arousing moments, Fleur stopped. Pulling away, Fleur regarded the woman, undone, underneath her. The Veela spoke, finishing her sentence, her face all business.  
“Because, ‘ermione, I ‘ope you are not…. _dissuaded_. ‘ave not been…because, I razzer zink … I would enjoy it, as well, ‘ermione….”  
“What?” Hermione asked, trembling.  
Fleur looked down at Hermione, eyes dark. “Giving you what you want, ‘ermione…letting you _give up control_.”  
The Veela’s eyes flickered with flecks of red and gold.  
“ _Dominating you_ , somewhat. ‘ermione…..” The Veela’s voice was husky and sounded nothing like Fleur. She admitted, “I zink…. I’d like zat… **a lot**.”  
Hermione swallowed, looking up at Fleur. She could only nod, her body overheating underneath the blonde’s; she searched her eyes carefully.  
She swallowed, as she processed what her mate had just admitted. But could she admit the truth to herself?  
“Fleur…” Hermione said, tentatively. “I…I think…” she swallowed again. The brunette recognized she was unable to move, locked in place in the Veela’s vice grip, eliciting a realization she was uncharacteristically helpless underneath her. “Fleur…” Hermione stuttered.  
More to the point, if Hermione was truly honest with herself, her reaction to Fleur’s authoritative manner? While not something she wanted on a daily basis, there was no denying in this singular moment, she was a wet, needy mess. And mostly, she admitted, she was utterly, devastatingly, and completely…aroused.  
“….I want it. With you….”  
**XOXOXOXOXOXXO**  
“One more…” Growled the Veela, insistently.  
“ **No!** Gods, no, Fleur! I cannot physically come…anymore! Woman…! Do you hear me?”  
Fleur apparently did not hear her, as she continued to move down Hermione’s sweaty body, biting, nipping, and lavishing kisses against her skin, as she trailed down her stomach, heading dangerously closer towards her sex.  
“No!” Yelped Hermione, grabbing her wand from the nightstand. Pointing it between the Veela’s amused eyebrows, she said, “Do I need to hex you, to keep you out of my battered nether regions, Fleur?”  
Fleur grinned.  
“ _Perhaps…”_ she drawled. Her fingers snuck down Hermione’s hips, stroking the skin, her nails grazing the surface, leaving a mark.  
“Mmmmm…”  
“Fleur!” Hermione demanded. “Look at me!”  
“I am looking at you…”  
“NO! My face, Fleur, up here!” She waited until Fleur finally did so, with a huff. “Fleur, I missed last evening’s Sunday dinner…generally required of all the staff! I cannot…and I mean cannot…miss _Monday morning breakfast_ , as well!”  
“But I will not see you for days, ma Cherie!”  
“Well, I think you made up for that plenty, Fleur. I don’t think there is an innocent surface left in this entire flat! And worse…I’m going to be…. **tardy**!”  
Hermione looked as though she might hyperventilate.  
Fleur sighed, nodding. She grudgingly realized when she was beat. “Okay, fine, zen! Do not ‘ave one of your panic attacks, ‘ermione. Zey can’t take ‘ouse points away from faculty members, oui?”  
Hermione said, “it’s the principle of the matter! I’m supposed to be setting an example!” She waved her wand flagrantly around in the air, to emphasize her point.  
“Fine.” Fleur ducked, and grumbled, “let me ‘elp you get your zings into zat ugly beaded bag, zen…”  
Hermione stopped her prostrations, seeing the disappointed look on her woman’s face. She stopped and took a deep breath.  
Cupping Fleur’s cheeks, she looked meaningfully into her eyes. “Darling, I don’t want to be away from you either. I cherish every moment with you, and I cherish this right now my love…but it doesn’t change the fact that you and I do have responsibilities…jobs, Fleur. We have places to be, right now, in fact! I promise…I’ll be holding my breath until Friday, love.”  
“Along wiz mine, az well…I love you, my ‘ermione.”  
**XOXOXOXOXXOXOX**  
It was like the opening scene from “The Sound of Music”, Hermione’s favorite muggle movie, minus the guitar. She was running---sprinting, actually-- into the daunting building, trying to make the great hall before the final bell.  
So focused on the heavy door of the entry way, she didn’t notice two bodies standing in front, as she toppled, head first into the closest one.  
“Oooof!” Hermione grunted, crashing head-first.  
“Foutre!” The voice cried out, on contact. “Mon Dieu, Professor Granger! Look where you are going!”  
Hermione felt herself being lifted to standing, and brushed off. Looking up, she saw the smiling face of Narcissa.  
“Okay, there, professor?” Cissy said, straightening her up.  
“Yes, I …you see…I, well.”  
Gaby had a very amused look on her face. “I zee zat my sister iz,” she glanced over Hermione, brushing her hand against Hermione’s face, looking her head to toe. “ **….relentless.** ”  
Hermione looked between her and then to Narcissa, who was attempting to discreetly cover her laugh.  
“What’s say we clean you up a bit, dear, before heading in to the Great Hall?” The healer offered.  
“Oui!” Agreed Gaby. “I imagine ze children wouldn’t beliefz ze _great ‘ermione Granger_ would ‘ave so many bruises, wizout deatz eaters being involved.”  
Her two friends quickly glamoured and healed her, giggling the entire time. Their cascading laughter caused Hermione to go beet red, exponentially so.  
“Good as new.” Narcissa exclaimed, pleased. “Can’t have the children frightened of the potential uprising of the Death Eaters.”  
The three friends turned, and headed into the hall, two of them laughing the entire way, thankfully making it in 10 minutes before the bell.  
**TBC.**


	13. Three Veela, Two Witches, One Draco Draco Draco

**Chapter: Three Veela, Two Witches, One Draco**  
AUTHORS: Ladyfun & TiAdoro914 Collaboration  
RATING: M  
DISCLAIMERS: We own none of this, it all belongs to JK. It's her world, we just live in it.  
A/N: TiAdoro914: Ladyfun: For clarification from all of your comments/PMs: Fleur and Hermione are NOT – NOT – getting into BSDM. So if you are concerned (or interested) in any way this was a harbinger of what's to come – it's not. It's more about control and the burden of initiation of intamacy. Hermione finally feels like she can give some of it up. She loves Fleur and likes to be dominated by her in bed – but not to the full extent of what BSDM entails. Frankly, she likes someone else be in charge for a change! With Fleur, she feels loved, safe and cared for. It translates to the bedroom...that's all. While that might be the basis of a real BDSM coupling, we are not familiar enough nor could we speak/write to this topic appropriately to read as believable. Plus it doesn't seem in line with our vision of this coupling. Just wanted to clarify- and thank you for all of the input on this and everything else. To that end...Keep the reviews coming! XO from T & LF  
________________________________________

It was on their first official day of wedding dress shopping, that Hermione was reminded of what a "society lady of standing" Cissy was, by birthright, and still remained.  
"Okay, my dear, our morning starts with your private fitting hour. You have a few designs at Madame Malkan's scheduled from 10 am to 11 am; she's pulled a few Parisian-influenced designs from this year's fashions."  
"Wait," Interrupted Hermione. "I didn't even know Malkan's did private fittings! Really?"  
Narcissa gave her the "oh-aren't-you-cute" look, as she informed the muggleborn, "Well, of course they do!" as thought it was as obvious as breathing. Her features quickly softened with understanding, as she added "and I'm sure that it doesn't hurt that the Black family was the primary investor in the venture, when her shop first opened, either!"  
"What? She's a pureblood?"  
Narcissa laughed. "Why, Merlin's sakes, no, Hermione! A dressmaker?"  
Hermione looked confused, until Narcissa explained. "Money is money, Professor. The Blacks have always been shrewd investors, you know." She explained. In a conspiratorial tone, she added, "I actually won 900 Galleons on a small pool, wherein I wagered on Harry Potter to win!"  
"I imagine that wasn't the... common bet."  
Narcissa nodded, rather proudly. "Hence, the 900 Galleons."  
Hermione looked at Narcissa, through seemingly new eyes. It baffled her, after all this time of being friends, how Narcissa never failed to still suprise her. The Golden Girl grinned, appreciatively. "Shrewd investment, indeed, Madame!"  
They laughed, merrily, on their morning outing.  
It was a most educational endeavor. Hermione saw, for the first time, how "the other side" lived, so to speak. While Madame Malkan had always been very civil to the Gryffindor in the past when bought her robes for school, today she was absolutely fawning, today. All because Madame Narcissa Druella Black happened to be her shopping companion.  
Narcissa seemed oblivious. Instead, the pure-blood was engaged in genuinely fawning over Hermione, oohing and ahhing over the beautiful designs.  
"Isn't she gorgeous, Madame?" The dressmaker gushed.  
"Hermione? Why yes, she is, indeed!" Narcissa smiled broadly, her eyes taking in her blushing friend. Pointing at the intricate white and periwinkle dress, she noted, "This is by far my favorite design! My word, Hermione, I forget after seeing you in our frumpy robes all day that you have such a lovely figure!" She declaired, over the clucking approval of Madame Malkan. "Furthermore...I suspect you will render your bride speechless."  
Hermione snorted. "Speechless? Hardly. She's French, remember?"  
There was a stunned silence from the dressmaker, as her hands paused from pinning the fitted cloth to Hermione's alterations. "Wait. I think I misheard? Did you say….bride?"  
The dressmaker looked suprised, pins and clips frozen, mid-air.  
Hermione looked up nervously, but Narcissa quickly interjected. "You did not mishear, Madame! I did say 'bride'. Hermione is marrying a female; specifically Miss Fleur Delacour." Her gaze on the dressmaker was not malevolent, but clearly sent a message.  
"Fleur Delacour? You mean that Triwizard Champion here, a few years back?"  
Hermione looked at the dressmaker, a tad flustered, and answered in a neutral tone. "Yes, the Triwizard Champion, from Beauxbatons. Among other things."  
The dressmaker looked up, confused, at Narcissa. "But…isn't she a creature?" Madame Malkan asked. "I'm a little surprised, Narcissa."  
"Really? Why is that?" Narcissa said, sugary sweet.  
Not realizing the danger she was in, the seamstress plundered on, "Well, because, uh...I suppose, you're all but endorsing this union... of a creature and a Muggleborn, Lady Malf-I mean, Madame Black! And by bringing in Miss Granger, well," she stumbled on, "While lovely, and a hero, uh…she is not who I would typically expect accompanying someone of your standing, as the Head of the Noble House of Black."  
"Really? Why is that?" Narcissa said, eyes piercing, dangerous smile still in place.  
Madame Malkan blushed, remaining quiet. Hermione, despite her own irritation, almost felt sorry for the woman! Even though it was in her defense, Narcissa was downright frightening...even to Hermione, in this moment.  
"Well, since the majority of the Noble House of Black is either murdered, disowned, or a past or present member at Azkaban... I should think our noble house could use a little bit of the Golden Girl's charity rubbing off on us, wouldn't you agree?"  
"Uh...ye-yes, Ma'am." She replied, uncertain. "Uh, I'll go get the next design, now…"  
"That seems like a good idea, Madame Malkan. Why don't you?" Her dismissal was clear.  
After she left, Narcissa eyes softened, considerably. She looked sympathetically at her friend. "Do you want to leave, Hermione?" She asked, quietly.  
Hermione shook her head, no. "I just forget…sometimes. That things like blood status and family standing still matter, to some people."  
"Only to little people, dear." She smiled, faintly. "And really, it's not blood status, not really. It's more about money, if we're being honest. Little does the vapid git realize how rich you actually are, Hermione, you and the rest of the trio; what from your war windfall and endorsements."  
"I guess," Hermione said, deep in thought. She apprased the proud woman standing next to her, looking pained on her behalf; without warning Hermione threw her arms around Cissy, hugging her vigorously. Narcissa, initally startled, recovered quickly from the unexpected affection, and returned her embrace.  
Narcissa, amused, asked "What's all this about, Hermione?"  
"For being you, Narcissa!" Narcissa looked at her like she was a three headed Screwt, which had Hermione giggling when she pulled back and saw the older woman's expression. She explained to the blonde, "Bloody Hell, if I grew up like you, always having to second guess about all of these ulterior motives, and who is appropriate to like, or to not like? I think I'd go nutters!" A wide, genuine look of affection was evident on Hermione's face. "The fact you love me so much…well, Narcissa, it's just become so normal to me, that I forget sometimes…how extraordinary, it really is. How extraordinary you are..."  
Now it was Narcissa's turn to hug the smaller witch.  
Firmly ensconced in Hermione's tight embrace, the former Slytherin murmured. "Now, you know better than that, Hermione Jean Granger! From the day you grabbed me in the professor's lounge on my first day, you all but dared me not to fall in love with you! I was forced, practically, to adopt you on the spot." They both grinned, remembering that fateful day, firmly entrenched in their mutual embrace. Narcissa added quietly, "I will never forget what you and Harry have done for Draco and I…for all of us, really. You're the extraordinary one, Hermione."  
They were silent for a time, content; Narcissa patting the younger one, gently.  
As the dressmaker bustled around, attempting to remain nondescript, she couldn't help but to overhear their conversation. Madame Malkan marveled. She couldn't help but to feel deeply moved by the overheard and profoundly affecting statements from the regal woman. The same one who was hugging a simple muggleborn, in middle of her closed dress shop.  
It was extraordinary, really.  
 **XOXOXOXO**  
As the two witches left the dress shop, with Hermione settled on a stunning, elegant, yet rather form-fitting white gown, Hermione figured it was the right time to broach a certain topic with Narcissa. As she began to speak, she was suprised with herself, realizing she was actually very nervous about this conversation despite the fact it had been on her mind, forever.  
"So…ummm…Cissy." Hermione began, somewhat ackwardly.  
Narcissa glanced at her. "Yes my dear?"  
"Can we sit, uh, for a moment?" Hermione asked, pulling Cissy to a bench adjactent to the two witches, one that was private and overlooked a little park.  
Narcissa sat. Intuitively, the older woman gave Hermione the time collect herself, unsure of what was to come next.  
Hermione's expression was quite serious, and her hands clutched in her lap. Her eyes fluttered up to Narcissa, saying, "I am so grateful to have you in my life, Cissy. So grateful! And I think we have both made it clear, our feelings towards one another," Hermione said, her voice slighly pressured. Shyly, she looked up cautiously, to meet Cissy's eyes... only to find a broad smile looking back, at her.  
Hermione seemed to visibly relax, and smiled in return.  
"So, I was hoping...uh. Hoping that, you, well... _wouldyoupleasewalkmedowntheaisle_ , at my wedding?" She looked at Narcissa, the woman's expression obviously suprised. Hermione continued, nerviously, "Would you do me the honor... of presenting me to Fleur?" Hermione asked, holding her breath... just a little.  
Narcissa was silent. Hermione figited, staring at her shoes, waiting. After a moment, hearing no response, she gathered her Gryffindor courage to look up, and regard the older witch. What she saw suprised the younger woman.  
Narcissa Black was crying! Unmistakably... crying.  
"Oh, Cissy!" Hermione said, hurridly. "I'm so sorry...did I... have I upset you?"  
"Hermione," Cissy started, wiping her tears. She grabbed both of Hermione's hands, firmly in her own. "These are happy tears, love."  
The blonde woman paused, and continued to explain. "I am so overcome, really, with my love for you, my dear! You already know I think of you as a daughter of sorts...and the fact that you would ask me this? That you would bestow upon me, this honor, in your life…?" Cissy put her hand on her heart, and smiled broadly.  
The brunette felt herself welling up, as well.  
Narcissa continued, eyes shining. "Hermione, you came into my life, and filled it with such sunshine! You have no idea. You not only gave me your love, but because of you, Hermione..." she reached up and touched Hermione's cheek, meaningfully. Narcissa's eyes were still filled with tears, as she continued, "...you also brought into my life, a family. A real, whole family, again; a family, in addition to Draco, of course. I haven't had that, since my sisters and I were young, Hermione. But then, you happened. You brought me to my Lene. My mate, Hermione! You brought me to Gaby, and to Fleur."  
Narcissa face was awestruck. "And now? Now, you have asked me to have the honor of being in your wedding! On such an important day, to be by your side, Hermione? Oh my dear, it would be a tremendous honor and a privilege..." Narcissa's voice suddenly trailed off, in realization. Narcissa thought carefully how to approach her concern.  
She looked directly at Hermione. "Hermione…" Narcissa paused. "Hermione, you have parents, dear." She watched Hermione's expression closely. Proceeding gently, the older woman asked, "What about them? While I am so honored and fiercely proud to be by your side, you have two parents who are still alive. Two parents who are still in your life, my dear. Shouldn't you...rather, are you sure...uh. Hermione, dear...don't you want them to walk you down the aisle?"  
Hermione paused, looking at Narcissa.  
She answered simply. "It's not our way, Cissy."  
Hermione looked out at the park, and looked deep in thought. After organizing herself, she turned back to Narcissa, thinking how best to explain her relationship with her biological family to her friend. She explained, "My parents love me. I love them. But... it's just not who we are, as a family. My parents...they are just not comfortable in our world, Cissy. They just don't get it; they don't understand my world, nor do they have a desire to, either."  
She was at a bit of a loss for words at this point.  
"I see," Narcissa murmered, in comprehension. "I understand... despite having grown up in the wizarding world, myself...more than you know, Hermione! I understand that families come in different shapes and sizes, and... interest levels. And what appears from the outside does not always match what happens on the inside."  
Grasping Hermione's hands firmly, she gave her a warm smile. "So, Hermione... if you are sure, then I am sure, love! I would love nothing more than to be by your side, on your happy day!"  
"Thank you, Cissy," she replied sweetly. Hermione added, earnestly, "I mean, thank the Goddess really, for you!" Hermione shook her head. "...Because clearly left to my own devices, I'd be walking down the aisle in mismatched shoes and jeans! Can you imagine the bloody hell I'd get from Fleur?" Hermione giggled, lightening the mood.  
Just watching how Hermione's face lit up by just saying Fleur's name was almost too cute for Narcissa to handle. The two witches immediately came together, in a fierce hug, a silent understanding passing between the two. Narcissa peppered Hermione's head with gentle kisses, and wondered how anyone could ever believe this young woman was anything less than amazing.  
The two sat, overlooking the park, finding something in each other they both didn't consciously realize they had always needed. Now found, it was something both could never live without.  
 **XOXOXOXXXO**  
Despite the clear love and affection between Hermione and Narcissa, it was actually the silent, unspoken adoration between Cissy and the other member of their trio that would ignite the next day.  
The next day, Gaby was furious, on her beloved Narcissa's behalf.  
Hermione had left, earlier that morning, with Fleur. The two betrothed had gone off to do the necessary shopping in preparation for the onslaught of their company's arrival, for the infamous "Draco luncheon." Narcissa, a glutton for punishment, apparently, had scheduled herself- in addition to Draco's luncheon-to have her first "in person" meeting with her estranged sister, on the same weekend.  
Never let it be said Narcissa Black wasn't up for challenges.  
Secretly, she hoped it would go well with Andromeda, enough so that she could have a second lunch, once Lene arrived. A lunch, with her sister and her mate, in order to host a formal introduction to one another. As she prepared for her Andy rendez-vous, Gaby was left as the remaining posse member to help Cissy get ready for the much anticipated reunion tea with her sole surviving older sister, Andromeda Black (nee Tonks).  
Gaby almost sustained vertigo, watching Narcissa whirl about in a flurry of nervous energy. If the younger witch weren't so sympathetically nervous as well for Cissy, Gaby would have never let the opportunity pass of making sarcastic commentary regarding the frenetic state of her normally overly-poised friend! Gaby noted with amusement that Cissy must have changed her outfit, easily, seven times! This, despite the fact Gaby reminded her no one would see the damn outfit since she was wearing her healer's robes on top!  
"You could be naked, for fuck's sake, Cissy! Are you planning on stripping wiz zis sister of yours?"  
"One never knows," Narcissa replied absentmindidly.  
Gaby rolled her eyes. "What iz all of zis? You're acting like you're afraid she's going to 'ex you, Cissy!" Gaby pointed out, practically.  
"No…not that." Narcissa said, offhandedly, as she took one last look at her put together visage in the mirror. "...she wouldn't hex me...I don't think." Cissy fixed some imagined deficiency. "That was more our eldest sister's domain."  
Gaby frowned, as she moved to fix an errant hairpin in the back of Cissy's elegant French twist, patting her coif, when done.  
"Quelle est votre inquiétude ? What iz eet?"  
Narcissa turned, and let a flicker of pain cross her expression. Just as quickly, she schooled her features into that of a more neutral one, likely well practiced from her childhood days.  
"No, I suppose…it's just, well. It took her days to respond to my owl, reaching out for contact…and I guess, it's just I'm most afraid…" her voice trailed off.  
After a quiet moment, Gaby mercifully nodded. She answered for her. "Of rejection. I understand, my Cissy." Reaching in, the younger witch hugged her dear friend, mentor, and soon to be additional mother.  
Gaby looked at Narcissa, the younger suprisingly serious, and spoke with all the sincerity she could muster. "Zen she would be ze fool, if she rejects you, and not wortz your time, frankly! Eef zis sister of yours, if she cannot see what an amazing woman you 'ave turned out to be…? Ze woman who single 'andidly turned ze tide of ze war, wiz 'er bravery? Ze woman who 'eals ze broken bodies and sprits of zes little children, everyday…? Ze woman who finally learned 'ow to love? " Gaby shook her head, in disgust. "Well, bah! I say, Cissy! For zis sister of yourz, well...she iz not worth your time, zen!"  
Cissy looked as though she might cry, looking at Gaby after such a passionate outburst.  
"And frankly," added Gaby. "Eet iz a good zing eef she does reject you, I say! Because zat meanz zere iz more of you for me and 'ermione, zat way! I'm no fool."  
She gave her older friend a cheeky grin, and turned her towards the fireplace.  
"Now go, you lunatic! Before you lose ze little nerve you 'ave, cherie!" Gaby encouraged, with a kiss on the cheek. The veela pushing Narcissa towards the floo powder in her typically charming, but very bossy, way.  
XOXOXOXOXOXX  
Fleur and Hermione popped in through the floo, laughing gleefully. They were met in Hermione's quarters by a scowling, clearly unhappy Gabrielle Delacour.  
She had a half-drunk glass of wine on the table in front of her, and sat, with her arms folded, staring at the two with an unamused expression.  
"About time!" Gaby complained, looking at her sister and Hermione, obviously displeased.  
"Now what?" Hermione asked, taking in her unexpected guest. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your scowling company, Gabs?"  
Gaby threw her hands up, muttering "Elle est même incroyable ...inacceptable…!" Finally she just started drinking her wine.  
Hermione and Fleur exchanged a concerned look, and Fleur stepped forward. "Who, Gaby? What? Que s'est-il passé?" Fleur asked, calmly, taking a seat next to her distraught sister. Attempting to gauge what had caused this foul mood in her younger sister, Fleur prompted, "What's happened?" She asked, gently.  
Hermione took all the bags to where they belonged, allowing Fleur to sit with Gaby, initially. Finally, Hermione joined them, after she had finished up putting all the perishables away.  
Hermione looked at her friend, apprasingly. "What's got your knickers in a wad, Gabs?"  
Gaby looked up, eyes glassy with tears. "She was…awful."  
"Who?" Chimed the two witches, now flanking Gabrielle on either side.  
"Andromeda Black!" Gaby spat out. "Awful." She finished her glass of wine, clearly not her first. "Damn eet, I wish you could... disinvite 'er from your wedding, sister!"  
Fleur set her jaw, firmly. "You know I can't do zat. What 'appened? I've known Andy for years, through Tonks! I've always liked 'er, Gaby. She's always been great, to me...I don't understand?"  
"I admit I don't know Andy well," added Hermione, "...but, from my experiences, I have to say... she's always been genuinely kind to me, as well, Gaby. What has happened?"  
"She iz neizer 'great', Fleur..." Gaby spat, glaring at her sister. "...Or 'kind', 'ermione…" she added, glaring towards the Golden Girl. "Non! Neizer. What she iz, 'owever... iz a total beetch!"  
Fleur and Hermione exchanged a look.  
Gaby scowled. "You two weren't 'ere! You two," she said with emphasis, "weren't ze one's who 'ad to pick ze pieces of Narcissa off zis floor, today!" Gaby's face was anguished. "I've never seen 'er so…destroyed. I will never…never!...like zis woman! Zis Andromeda Black, zis faker...she is not nice. She was cruel, to Cissy, today…"  
"What?" Hermione asked, flabbergasted.  
"She said terrible zings to Cissy…terrible! I'll spare you ze details," Gaby said, while retrieving the open bottle of wine and pouring herself another glass. After a taking a drink, she looked at the two, her voice still seething with fury. "Basically she called 'er a 'ypocrite and a slut, and worse names! She was appalled zat Cissy expected 'er to be 'appy for 'er ..." Gaby made air quotes, "...'Unconventional' union wiz a creature! A creature! She called us creatures, Fleur, and much worse zen zat, sister!"  
Hermione and Fleur both looked stunned.  
Gaby continued, "zen, she told Cissy, 'A creature iz worze zan a human, lower zan a human...' zis Andromeda said, 'and for a human, you disowned me, and made my life 'ell' for all of my adult life!' waz ze argument she made!"  
"Oh, my….." Hermione said, in utter disbelief. "Wow. That doesn't sound... like Andy."  
"Oui! She did!" Gaby said, raising her voice, her eyes furious. "She said she would go see 'ermione marry 'er creature, out of respect to ze Golden Girl, az well az for respect to 'er daughter, Nymphadora! But zis Andromeda Black? She said zat she would never attend a cowardly 'ypocrite's wedding, and zat Narcissa should never expect her presence at zat farce, nor even invite 'er!"  
Fleur's eyes were flashing angrily, along with Gaby's. Fleur's jaw muscles were clenching. She growled, "Zat….I…." Fleur finally concluded, "Zat iz unacceptable." Fleur muttered.  
"You zink?" Gaby spat, sarcastically.  
Hermione, shaking her head, asked, "Where is Cissy, now?"  
"Asleep!" Gaby said. "For fuck's sakes, 'ermione! She waz inconsolable, so I put 'er down wiz two of the dreamless draughts, in 'er wine. I carried 'er into ze bedroom...she's finally resting."  
"Hopefully still breathing." Hermione added, under her breath.  
Fleur rose to standing, clearly furious. The auror pulled her wand out, and clenched it in her hand. She reached over to where they had just toss their overcloak, and grabbed it. Looking at Hermione, Fleur said, "Incroyable! I'm going to go see Tonks, and—"  
Hermione grabbed her by the arm, cutting her off. "You'll do nothing of the sort, Fleur."  
"What? Zis can't stand, 'ermione!"  
Hermione spoke calmly, but definitively; the war veteran left no room for argument.  
Looking at both Veela pointidly, her gaze finally resting on Fleur, Hermione said firmly, "Fleur, this is between Narcissa and Andromeda. Not you, not Tonks, not Gaby and I. You don't know, Fleur….and as much as we love Narcissa, there is a lot of water under the bridge for the Black family. Maybe some of that was deserved...although, the insults were unacceptable, of course."  
She made sure Fleur met her gaze, before she continued. "Things went on in that house, things which we will never understand! Only the two of them know what has passed between them. I recommend we don't judge…not that we don't take action. But, Fleur? Most importantly, we should take the guidance from Cissy, on how best to proceed in this matter."  
Her words seemed to calm the Veela, slightly.  
Hermione added, "You could make things a lot worse, without realizing it, Fleur."  
Fleur nodded, in grudging acceptance, and sat back down.  
"Fleur," Hermione said, gently, "The worst thing that could happen, is we act on only part of the story…and as a result, you hurt your relationship with Tonks, right? People say stupid things, all the time, when they're hurt! Fleur, what if you go in, wand blasting, and jeopardize a real reconciliation between Cissy and Andy?"  
Fleur sighed. She hated it when her mate was so damn reasonable.  
The younger blonde looked at the two, incredulously. "So, what…zen?" She stood up, putting her hands defiantly on her hips. "We are just supposed to…. ignore zis, zen?" Gaby asked, furious.  
"Yes, Gaby." Hermione answered, firmly. "For now. Gaby...our job is to support Cissy, and that is our only job. If she wants us involved, we will get involved…but only on her guidance. We don't know the whole story! But," Hermione's eyes flashed with a furious intensity, "If Narcissa has been wronged unjustly, and she needs us, Merlin help the witch or wizard that is responsible. Until then, for now? Yes, we wait."  
Gaby rattled off several choice words in French, pacing the room, and judging by Fleur's expression, her words were likely quite off color, Hermione observed. The Golden Girl's measured words had been effective however, as Gaby's righteous rage petered out somewhat.  
Gaby looked at the her friend, the fucking overly rational Transfiguration professor, and stuck out her lower lip. Pointing a finger at the Golden Girl, the younger blonde acquiesced. "Fine, 'ermione, fine! I will wait. I agree to zat…but, I am telling you now, I will never forget Cissy's face! It ripped my guts out...and I refuse to like zis woman…ever!"  
Hermione acknowledged the empassioned plea.  
"I would expect no less, Gabrielle…" The brunette said, nodding. "I think that's a given."  
XOXOXOXOXOX  
Little was spoken of the disastrous lunch that should not be named, going forward. Instead, the women busied themselves with getting ready for Lene's arrival, and preparing for Draco's luncheon, or "Coming Out" party, as Gaby jokingly called it.  
Lene was to arrive later that afternoon. Although Cissy was still feeling melancholy regarding the outcome of her lunch with Andy, she was vibrating with excitement at the prospect of Lene. She couldn't wait to get her hands, lips, and whatever else she could muster, on Lene.  
Draco was scheduled to arrive the following day.  
Fleur and Hermione holed away in Hermione's quarters. Hermione was working on her lesson plans for the next week and graded papers; Fleur was doing some work as well, finishing up some overdue After Action Reports from their last mission. It was nice for the two witches to have some normalcy together, working side by side. The fire was roaring and they were both immersed in thought. It was perfect, and peaceful.  
However, their notable withdrawl left Gaby with a frenetic Narcissa, once again.  
In between teaching her classes, the younger Veela sportingly assisted with getting the area ready for their guests. Lene was obviously staying with Narcissa, however, with Minerva's permission, a room just down the hall from Narcissa's had been made available for Draco.  
One day, and Gaby was already exhausted.  
"Cissy! You crazy lady, everyzing is ready! Stop fretting." The blonde huffed. "You are making me nauseous, wiz all ze bouncing and ze fluttering zat you are doing! Sit!" She commanded, patting the sofa. "...Viz me. Now!"  
Gaby had had enough. Everything was beyond ready, and she could withstand Cissy's nervous energy any longer.  
The normally calm, cool and collected woman sighed, and sat, in compliance. She had been truly thrown from her previous Andy encounter; compounding her nerves was the fact she was really was missing her mate. And, being honest with herself, she was nervous to see Lene, in the flesh.  
While they talked everyday, often several times a day via their compact connection, she had not seen Lene, in person, since the Ball.  
"Do you think it's time, Gaby? Should I head down to the gates yet? Are you coming with me? I still think it's ridiculous that Lene would not allow us to pick her up, and she insisted on coming here instead." Cissy rattled off, to the younger woman.  
Gaby, catching only a fraction of the questions, threw up her hands, in defeat. "Merde, you insane woman! Go! Go to ze gates, and leave me alone! Besides, I can't unsee whatever you two will do, upon meeting up again for zee first time. Frankly, I refuse to 'ave zat burned into my retinas, again!" Gaby sighed, dramatically. "Plus I 'ave one more class today zat I must scoot off too."  
Standing, she put on her teaching robes, looking in the mirror in the hall, and straighting out her hair. Casting a satisfied look in the mirror, she muttered, "Why do I bozzer gilding ze lily? Perfection iz perfection, I should just accept eet." Turning to look at Cissy, Gaby added, "I will be in your quarters for dinner, tonight! And please Cissy...be decent! By zat, I mean, you know... fully dressed , old lady!" With that, they both departed Cissy's quarters, each going their own way.  
XOXOXOXXOXO  
Cissy walked hurridly, to meet her Lene at the gates of Hogwarts. Cissy could not sit still she was so excited and a littler nervous. Working off her energy, she was pacing back and forth in from of the gates when she heard the pop of apparition. She looked up to see a most beautiful sight.  
Her Lene.  
The witches just stood and stared at each of for a long moment before they rushed into one another's arms. In that moment, Cissy felt whole. And Lene felt the same.  
"Welcome to Hogwarts my love," Cissa said with a smile.  
With that, Lene gave Cissa a kiss to remember. Everything in that moment faded away, the feeling that overcame them more powerful than anything they had felt so far. These two regal, blonde and stunning witches were wrapped around each other for all to see, for the only thing that mattered in the world, at that moment, was each other.  
They broke apart and Cissa grabbed Lene's hand, practically dragging her through the castle to her quarters.  
Barging through the door, Cissa closed it with a bang, muttering several silencing and protection wards and threw Lene up against the nearest wall, attacking her neck.  
"I've missed you so much," she whispered between kisses, feeling Lene's hands quickly working to undress her.  
"Cissa…" Lene cried out. "Finally…"  
XOXOXOXOXOXO  
Later that evening, after the reunion of Lene and Cissa, everyone had gathered in Cissy's quarters and the five witches were thrilled to be back together again. After much hugging and kissing, the five were settled at Narcissa's table.  
Before dinner began, Narcissa's had taken a moment to pull Gaby aside and give her a hug and kiss. She wanted Gaby to feel loved in this moment, and of course, Gaby fell even more in love with her Cissy at the gesture. "Fine, I'll play nize tonight Cissy. But only because I didn't 'ave to zee you indisposed wiz my mozer again. And I expect to be plied wiz wine. Lots of your wine. " Gaby huffed, a grin on her face.  
Wine was poured, dinner was served and the witches dove in. They discussed the progress that Fleur and Hermione had made in wedding planning, and Lene told them everything she had accomplished as well. The Veela ceremony was arranged and Lene had already secured the necessities for the wedding by the lake as well. She needed Fleur and Hermione to make some decisions about color, food, seating, et cetera – but the mechanics of the wedding were well under way.  
Hermione shyly noted that Narcissa had taken her dress shopping and she found the perfect one. Fleur grinned broadly, looking unabashedly in love at her witch. Hermione had asked Harry to be her best man, and Ginny to be her bridesmaid, they both accepted ecstatically.  
Fleur took a moment to show her mother the ring Hermione proposed with, and gushed recapping the story. She told them about their weekend in London and gave her mother a short recap of meeting Hermione's parents as well.  
Gaby took every opportunity she could to interject, with a smile, all while not so demurely requesting refills of Narcissa's wine.  
Apolline, Gaby and Fleur made plans to go wedding dress shopping over the weekend together as well. "Lizen to me Fleur," Gaby drawled, a bit tipsy, "I get to pick out zee maid-of-'onor dress, non? I will only wear somezing spectacular. Somezing zat shows off my tits! Since you two only 'ave eyes for each ozer, I want zee rest of zee eyes to be on me!"  
"Yes Gabs, you get to pick," sighed Hermione. "But please, know that Ginny and Tonks will be wearing the same dress, or at least, something similar, so be kind. Not everyone has your French taste in attire!"  
"Trust me GG, I got zis."  
"That's what I'm worried about," Hermione replied with a chuckle.  
 **XOXOXOXOXOXO**  
Later that night Fleur and Hermione were cuddled up in bed in Hermione's quarters.  
"So, 'ow do you zink eet will go, wiz Draco tomorrow?"  
"I…I don't know, really." Hermione mused. "I've spent so many years absolutely despising that ferret, with justified cause, and now…" she just shook her head. "How can he be the spawn of someone as wonderful as Cissy? I just don't get it."  
Fleur looked at Hermione, and pulled her into a hug. "I zink…perhaps, eef you can separate your emotions from your remembrance of 'im, and zink, you two were eleven…twelve, right? Mais alors, I would 'ate to be judged for ze rest of my own life, for my own arrogant behavior as an idiot teenager at Beauxbatons! I was pretty…"  
"….conceited. I remember." Hermione added.  
"I was going to say unaware, but okay zen…" Fleur finished, a teasing glint in her eye. "I imagine a few may of zought you to be…what?"  
"Insufferable. A show off. A know it all. Aggressive."  
"Oui. Zat." Fleur nodded.  
"Oh, okay, fine. The ferret did redeem himself in the end, he didn't identify Harry to the snatchers, sure…but that doesn't erase years…years…of him being a total arse, Fleur."  
"Remember, eet wasn't just Cissy zat molded 'im, Belle. Monsieur Malfoy 'ad anotzzer parent az well, oui?"  
"Ugh. Lucius. What a waste of oxygen."  
"Eets not 'ard to be generous and open minded when you grow up in zat environment, oui? But growing up in a Pure Blood 'ousehold, wiz so many expectations…"  
Hermione waived her off. "I know, I know all that. But I also know he tried to get Buckbeak put to sleep! He tried to hex my teeth! He gave Katie a curse necklace, and she almost died, Fleur! I was so unsure, just a little muggleborn who didn't know anything about magic when I arrived at Hogwarts and he just made my life so much harder than it already was. He made my life hell, and that's hard to forget."  
"Oui….and not just for you. I'm sure eets 'ard to forget for Draco as well, peut-etre?"  
"Damn it Fleur, I hate it when you're bloody reasonable."  
"Well, from my perspective, I don't know 'im, well, so eets 'ard to guess what might 'appen. I am trying to not dislike 'im simply based on 'is past and from 'ow Cissy speaks of 'im, it appears 'e 'as tried 'ard to change. They are all each ozer 'as left…I just 'ope zat 'e can put her first in zis situation, but seeing your parent wiz someone other zan, well, your ozer parent, can be 'ard," she explained.  
"Are you okay, Fleur? With Cissy and your Maman?"  
"Oui. You can't 'elp who your mate iz, zat I understand. And zey really are a perfect match. You could not put together two more regal woman, non? Eets odd, at certain moments, sure. But I just want my Maman to be 'appy, and considering zis makes you and Cissy family, somezing I know zat makes you incredibly pleased, zen I am pleased too ma belle."  
Hermione smiled. Gods this woman, her woman, was perfect for her. She leaned up from her position cuddled against Fleur and gave her a kiss. Her lips found Fleur's soft, plump lips and her hand immediately went to Fleur's face, softly stroking her cheek.  
"I can't wait to be your wife, Fleur," she smiled earnestly.  
"And I yours, ma belle! Now, take off zat dizasterdzly top you are wearing! Eets making me itchy!"  
Hermione chuckled. "Really? It's your shirt, Fleur."  
"Non! I would never wear such a zing! Off!" She tugged Hermione's shirt off her body with an easy pull, diving straight to Hermione's chest lavishing her breasts relentlessly, with sweet kisses.  
"Much better. Non?"  
"Ohhhhh….yes. Mmmmm…better," Hermione mumbled.  
 **XOXOXOXOXO**  
One would think this family had learned a lesson, the first time. However they are a decidedly a stubborn bunch, in the final analysis.  
Gaby, humming to herself, decided to forgo the knock, instead bursting into Hermione's quarters.  
"Beetches! I am 'ungry! Eet iz time for you two to take my ass to ze breakfast, maintenant!"  
She looked around not seeing her witches. Their traveling robes were here, so clearly they hadn't left…the bedroom was open, and notably absent of the two women.  
"Eh? Maybe ze popped out for a second…I will wait." Reflecting, she said, out loud, "Zut! I will wait…after I pee, zat iz…" Gaby mumbled to herself, as she walked into the loo. "Merlin, I should not wait, so long! Damn ze coffee….I 'ave to pee like ze Russian Race-aaaaaaaakkkkkk!"  
Gaby screamed, slapping both hands over her eyes to cover them.  
She was met, in kind, by two additional voices, also screaming in shock.  
"Merde!" Gaby hollered, emphatically. "What ze fuck, Fleur!" She shouted, with her eyes closed. "Zat iz not what ze sink is meant for, ladies!"  
Recovering, Fleur responded. "Maybe not your sink, Gaby…." The Veela growled, with a generous helping of lasciviousness peppered in.  
Eyes still covered, Gaby announced, "Okay, zen…I will azzume zat you two are not interested in attending ze morning breakfast, in ze Great 'all, zen?"  
"You assume correctly, little sister."  
"You know, you really should warn a person…"  
"You know," responded Fleur, "you really should learn about zis zing called 'Ze Knock,' ma soeur…"  
"Okay zen," Gaby said, groping blindly, trying to find her way out of the bathroom without actually having to visually navigate her exit, declared, "I will…uh, excuse myself, zen."  
"Goodbye, Gaby." Hermione said resolutely. Honestly, this family was becoming infamous with coitus interruptus. "See you at lunch, then?"  
"Oui, 'ermione! And…'opefully wiz much more of ze clothzing items on, at zat time!" She called, over her shoulder, as she headed towards the front door.  
She kept her head facing decidedly forward, and did not venture a glance back at her ….flexible sister, likely continuing her previous 'interacting' with her mate.  
"What? You 'ave a problem wiz our current state of dress?" Fleur teased, hollering back at Gaby's retreating backside.  
"Me? Never! Your witch is quite zee looker Fluer! But zis Draco person, I zink, might be a little shocked, might not be of like mind. So! Ladies, zis waz well, uh…definitely informative."  
Gaby heard the evil laughter of her big sister, delighted she had embarrassed her unflappable little sister.  
Well, zat would not do! Gaby thought to herself. Out loud, she shouted towards the heavily violated bathroom, "And… zank you, ladies! You 'ave put a longstanding disagreement to rest, for moi! GG, so you know… I will be informing Pansy she owes me 15 Galleons, due to ze fact she was incorrect! Well, 'er speculations were incorrect….in your case, GG, I will be 'appy to inform Pansy zat ze carpet does, in fact, match ze curtains! Bien!"  
Gaby walked out, hearing a very satisfying splutter erupt, from her sister.  
"Au revoir, ladies! See you at lunch...!" Gaby sing-songed, shutting Hermione's door. The blonde witch then set a privacy and silencing ward or two, on their behalf, for good measure.  
Muttering, Gaby railed out, "Who ze fuck goes around….well, fucking!...wizout setting wards? C'est fou!"  
Finishing with the last flourish of her wand, she decided she was indeed hungry. The Care of Magical Creatures Professor felt that she recovered quite nicely from her initial mortification; and, in her humble opinion, she possibly even had the last laugh over Fleur Isabelle!  
She grinned.  
Deciding she didn't want to witness any other family members engaging in "relations," she decided forgo asking Cissy to join her; instead the Veela decided to grab some breakfast and head down to the pond, solo with breakfast for one.  
XOXOXOXXOXO  
Gaby, hummed, happily…she scored the last three croissants and a rather large bottle of wine from the house elves. Although they had been initially skeptical, she reassured them that an expensive Merlot was a breakfast staple in her part of France.  
She headed towards her favorite lookout point, anticipating a lovely breakfast of pastries and wine, without lascivious acts and defiling of her best friends and family members, being involved. Reaching the summit of the rock that overlooked the pond, she quickly frowned.  
She was not alone.  
What's more, she didn't recognize the trespasser who dared transgress on her breakfast locale!  
Well, the little French witch who could was determined to stand her ground.  
She slammed down the picnic basket her favorite elf had packed for her, and pulled out the bottle, examining the label. Frowning, she realized she forgot the corkscrew.  
"Isn't it a bit early, to engage in the hair of the dog?"  
"Excusez-moi?"  
"Oh, I'm sorry…you don't speak English? Uh," the interloper mumbled, face screwed up, trying to remember his French. "Il est trois…er…. très tôote les matin …for, I mean, pour…. boire de l'alcool. Uh, I mean, faire liquor?"  
Gaby looked at him blankly. Then, she burst out into pearls of merry laughter that were contagious. "Mon Dieu! Monsieur…no offense, but your French is 'orrible!"  
He laughed, a wan grin dotting his face, slowly. "Yep. It is pretty bad."  
"No, you just assassinated zat sentence. Eet's worse zen bad. I expect ze Aurors along, any minute, to arrest you."  
He grimaced. "Well, wouldn't be the first time."  
Gaby arched her eyebrows. "Ah! So a criminal, zen?"  
"No, not really."  
Gaby grinned ruthlessly. "Hm. Zat's what ze all say. But, suddenly, you are more interesting, to me." She said, looking at him, appraisingly.  
His face looked genuinely shocked. "Why?"  
Gaby shrugged. "Because on first impression, you looked razzer stuffy, to me, n'est-ce pas? But if you are a criminal…" she said, in a conspiratorial tone, "perhaps zat meanz you might have an illicit…corkscrew, in your contraband?" She grinned, charmingly. "You know, in your stolen goods?"  
He laughed, and apologized, "No, I'm sorry, no hot utensils. But here," he said, picking up a rock.  
"Avoriforis!" He said, pulling out his wand, and transfiguring the rock into a polished corkscrew. Smiling, he handed it to Gaby. "Here. Not stolen, though, unfortunately."  
"Damn! Well, zen, I suppose eets good zat at least ze wine iz, zen?" She laughed as his eyes widened, and she reassured him she was only kidding. He declined her offer to join her in a glass, but he did take her up on the croissant.  
XOXOXOXOXO  
Taking another sip of her wine, and another sidelong glance at her breakfast companion, she was surprised how easily they fell into conversation. He told her he was an alumni of Hogwarts, and worked as a barrister, currently. He shared his school years hadn't been that happy in his times at Hogwarts, and this is the spot in which he would make his escape, when things got too overwhelming. Gaby listened, offering funny observations here and there, and they had a very enjoyable breakfast.  
Just chatting, as though nothing were out of the ordinary.  
Chatting.  
Then it hit Gaby. "Monsieur?" She asked.  
"Oui, my little thief?"  
"Zis may seem like a strange question…"  
"Oh good, because the 50 prior strange questions you've asked were pretty tame, in my opinion," he joked. "Ask away."  
"Do you feel anyzing weird, right now? Like, physically….like, your 'ead is cloudy, or zat….you zink I'm gorgeous….or ze need to drool? Anyzing?"  
He laughed, eating another bite. "Well, I do think your gorgeous, actually. But I think that's probably going to be a universally held opinion, and I'm sure you realize that. But no, I don't feel out of sorts, if that's what you're asking."  
"No drool?"  
"Drool? Uh, no, sorry. No drool that I'm aware of."  
"Hm." She mused, taking an appraising look at him. Glancing down, she noticed the lack of a wedding ring, on his finger. He was wildly attractive, and yet…not married.  
"Are you married, Monsieur?"  
"Why, are you asking, Mademoiselle?"  
"I mean, iz your 'eart…taken, forgive ze corny sentiment, but …zat. Iz eet taken, by someone?"  
He gave her a rakish grin, "not that I was aware of, Mademoiselle. But that was before the sun shone down upon such a lovely face," he gestured in her direction, "and I had such delicious and illegal croissants, given to me, of course."  
He slid over, slightly closer.  
She rolled her eyes. Commenting dryly, Gaby asked, "Please tell me zat line doesn't actually work wiz anyone."  
He shrugged, and grinned again, more genuinely. "Eh, depends. Depends on the situation, the lady…you know. Many factors."  
"Not…ze delivery, or ze deliverer-er of ze line?" She teased.  
He feigned being insulted. "What? Me? Tosh! No, my delivery is perfect! Haven't you noticed I'm gorgeous, as well?"  
She glared at him, with a playful evil eye. "No, eet did not escape my attention, Monsieur."  
"As long as that's settled, then."  
She cast him a sidelong glance. "So, gay, zen?"  
"What?" He bellowed out.  
"Are you gay?"  
"Why the hell do you say that?" He spluttered.  
Gaby looked him over, while she took a drink, drawing it out. Finally, she took mercy, and explained, "Well, let'z examine ze facts. Fact: you are of...well, advancing age…"  
"Hey!"  
"'Ush! Do you want my insight, or not? Fact: you are very groomed. Very well dressed, in expensive clothing. Zat brocade is a Brioni suit, Goblin made."  
He looked mildly surprised. "Good eye, I'm…impressed."  
She waived it off. "Don't be. I 'ave many ozzer, far more interesting skillz, zen zat! Alors, az I waz zaying….You are an attractive man, well-to do, well beyond ze age a man iz expected to marry, in ze wizarding world…"  
"I beg your pardon!"  
"Which leadz me to ze conclusion, you are not interested in being married…because you most certainly could be. So, I zink….you are gay."  
"You're loony! Just because I'm not married, I'm gay? I could be divorced…"  
"People of your stature don't divorce."  
He looked at her appraisingly. "Or, a player…you know, lots of witches…"  
She assessed him, up and down. "Normally, I would say, maybe….but I 'ave a secret weapon, I 'ave not been 'onest about. If you were a playboy, a true salope male? Well, you would 'ave…been affected. And you're not." She said, smugly, drinking the last of her wine. "Eets good to 'ave an ace in ze 'ole, oui?"  
"Well, that's what I get for trusting a fellow criminal, I guess! What is it…your secret weapon? Legilimency?"  
She leaned forward, speaking with emphasis. "Eet's zis….you're immune… to my thrall."  
His mouth dropped open. "Oh my royal fuck…you're a siren!"  
"What?!" She screeched, furious.  
He narrowly missed the wine glass that went whizzing past his ear. "Bollocks, lady, what the hell?"  
She slammed down her fist. "I am no siren, Monsieur! Did you not learn anzzing in the entire damned time you went to school?"  
"Well, I did get kicked out of the Care for Magical Creatures class…." He offered, ruefully.  
"I'm not surprised!" She fumed, ripping out several choice swear words in French.  
He allowed her to calm down, which she did. After her outburst, she apologized. "Je suis desolee…eet's a bit of a sensitive topic…"  
"I gathered by the glass, you threw at me. So, besides gorgeous, what are you, then?"  
"I am Veela!" She proclaimed.  
His eyes widened. "Bloody hell! Really?"  
"Really."  
"Huh. Veela. Well, Veela…I promise, I identify as completely heterosexual, for your information….not that there's anything wrong with not being heterosexual." He looked like he was measuring his words, carefully. Finally, he said in a more serious tone, he offered, "As fate would have it, I'm going to have a meeting with a Veela, this weekend! Any advice?"  
She looked at him, curious. "Iz zis an arranged….you know, romantic date?"  
He looked horrified. "Oh my bloody hell…no! No, it's just…uh, business, really…"  
Gaby smiled. "I see! Well zen, I would suggest….flattery. Lots of flattery! And to give some more specific advice, well, I would have to first know….what Veela clan are zey in?"  
"What?"  
"Clan!" She rolled her eyes. "Where are ze from?"  
"Oh!" He realized. "Uh, I dunno, exactly…. Europe? Maybe France, or Italy?" He seemed rather embarrassed. "I should know that, but actually, I don't remember…."  
She placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "Regardless…I would suggest: Wine. Lots of good wine. And I wouldn't worry too much, Monsieur; zey will already appreciate zat you can hold a conversation wiz zem, wizout glassy eyes or drooling. Zat alone should get you points."  
"Oh! I get it…you mean….that's the thrall thing, that you mentioned?"  
"Mon Dieu!" Gaby looked at him in disbelief. "You really 'ave no experience wiz Veela, do you?"  
"No, not really. I mean, there were some visiting witches that came to our school in my fourth year, some of whom I think were Veela. I know for a fact the Champion picked from their school, was a Veela."  
Gaby's mouth gaped open.  
"Fleur? Fleur Delacour?" She clarified.  
"Yeah, her. That was her. Fleur Delacour! You know her?"  
"Oui." Gaby said, simply.  
"She's pretty fucking hot, actually." He mused. Looking at his breakfast companion, he nudged her. "Y'know, not scathingly hot, like you, of course-"  
"Well, obviously!" Gaby agreed.  
"-But pretty easy on the eyes, all the same."  
Gaby started drinking from the bottle directly, since her glass was now…unavailable, having been chucked off the side of the rock by she herself, earlier. She said evenly, "So I hear. But, I regret to inform you, she is very much…off the market."  
He grimaced. "Yeah, I heard that too! Couldn't believe it, either. Shocking, really!"  
"What? What was shocking?"  
"That ol' goody two shoes, Whioney Granger, Queen of the Griffindorks, managed to land a babe like her! Merlin's Beard! I had no idea Granger was a carpet muncher when we were in school! It would have made her a lot more interesting then that dull, know-it-all that…"  
Whap!  
His sentence was cut short by Gaby's palm, to his face.  
"What the hell?" He said, holding the side of his cheek, smarting. "Did you just slap me?" He asked, shocked.  
"Oui. I did. But….I must not 'ave done it 'ard enough, eef you 'ad to ask!"  
Whap!  
"Ow! Stop it! What the fuck?" He asked, holding his other cheek, now with a matching red hand imprint, as well. He held up his wand, pointing it at her. "You can't just go around, and assault people, for no reason, lady!"  
"Oh, right." She held out her hand. "Allow me to formally introduce myself. I am Professor Gabrielle Delacour, sir. Sister of Fleur Delacour…and best friend of Professor Whioney Granger. Meet…ze reason."  
He stared at her extended hand, the color completely gone from his face, his mouth open, in astonishment.  
"Merlin…you…you're?" He stammered, rapidly cycling between her hand and her glaring expression.  
"Oui! I am."  
He paused. "Uh…can I have a drink of that, after all?" He gestured towards her open bottle of wine.  
"Bien sur!"  
She handed it over, to which he took a humongous drink. Pausing, he noted, "wow, that's actually pretty good…"  
"Isn't it? In fact, 'and it over…I need a drink, myself."  
After they each took several long swallows, Gaby glared. "Stop staring at me. Eet's creepy."  
He shook himself out of it. "It's just, I remember, you were like, the size of a house elf, then…"  
Gaby huffed, indignantly. "I was only eight, at ze time, Monsieur."  
"Eight?" He exclaimed. "Eight? Bloody Hell, I was lusting just now over an eight year old? That's disgusting!"  
She hit him on the side of the head. "I'm not eight now, lunatic!"  
"Yeah, but you were!" He insisted, slumping his head in his hands.  
"Look, stop fretting! I am perfectly legal now, and besides…everyone lusts after me. You should not feel bad," she said, nonplussed. "Feel bad zat I'm going to kick your ass, for insulting 'ermione!"  
He shook his head. "Could this day get any worse?"  
"Yes," Gaby confirmed. "Now, if you please, introduce yourself? I like to know ze names of ze men I destroy, before I destroy zem! So, eef you please…quel est votre nom, Monsieur?  
He looked at her, with a wan grin. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am… Mr. Draco Malfoy, at your service."  
"Merde!" Gaby exclaimed, hand flying to her mouth.  
He gave her a rueful smile. "Surprise! I believe we're scheduled…uh, to have lunch, today, Ms. Delacour?"  
It was Gaby's turn to look flabbergasted.  
In her defense, true to her Veela nature, she composed herself much faster then Draco had. She looked at him, and demanded he hand back the bottle of wine, and took a swig.  
The two of them sat there, staring at one another, shocked.  
Finally, their gaze eventually faltered, and they looked elsewhere. Draco and Gaby continued to sit on the rock, gazing out toward the pond, together. Neither said a word. Neither realized how long they remained rooted in their spot, on the rock, just passing the bottle back and forth in comfortably uncomfortable silence.  
 **XOXXOXOXOX**  
They graduated from the rock by the pond to Gaby's quarters.  
She logically explained to him that they had finished the lone bottle of wine, and there were far many more selections in her residence than out in the middle of nowhere.  
He looked understandably skeptical, worried that she just wanted to hex him without potential witnesses.  
"Oh, for fucks sake, Dracoid…"  
"Draco." He corrected.  
"N'importe quoi!" She huffed. "Look, eef I wanted to 'ex you, you would've already been 'exed. If I wanted you dead…well, I could just 'ave transformed into my Veela and eaten you, already, for fucks sake! Eef I wanted you dead, zat iz…."  
"What?" He said, eyes wide. "Veela…eat…people?" He choked out, nervously.  
Gaby shook her head. "You really should 'ave paid attention in ze Magical Creatures class, non? Alors, Dracoid…C'mon, zen!" She mused happily, awfully chipper in tone as she took the frightened looking man by the hand, and led him down the trail towards Hogwarts.  
"Maybe this, er…isn't such a good idea. I should probably get ready….you know, so see my Mum."  
"Cissy?" Gaby said, a twinkle in her eye. "Well, unlezz you want to see …. All of your mozzer…and I do mean…ALL. Of your mozzer. Ozzerwize, uh…zen I zink not!"  
"What? Why? She…ohhh." He finally realized what the younger witch was referencing. "Perhaps you're right."  
The attractive blonde looked at him, with her innocent Cerulean Blues eyes. She said, earnestly, "Plus, my Maman iz much better at eating humans, zan I am! Best not to piss 'er off, from ze start."  
"I see." His mind raced to whom he could find sanctuary; perhaps Professor Slughorn was still around, in the Slythern dungeons. Frowning, he looked upwards, scanning the turrets of the castle while they walked, looking for any Veela flying around.  
She stopped suddenly on the path, with the Hogwarts gate directly in front of them. Her abrupt stop caused him to accidently bump into her.  
"Aaak!" She exclaimed. "Watch your clodhoppers, Monsieur Malfoy! Behave…or I will feed you to my sister!"  
She elongated the talons on one hand, holding it directly in front of his face, and watched him swallow, hard.  
"Come zen, ze wine will not drink eetself! Stop trying to cop a feel of my adorable figure, and watch where you are walking!"  
He stopped, feeling relieved, for no other reason than he was on the grounds of Hogwarts proper. He took a breath.  
Summoning his courage, he put on his game face. "Gabrielle,"  
"Gaby! Call me Gaby."  
"I think it best I get ready for lunch. I'd like to be, well, mentally ready to meet my mothers…." His voice trailed off, his face scrunching up in thought. "…uh, fiancée?"  
"Mate." Gaby corrected.  
A strange look passed across his face. "M-Mate, then. Uh, that."  
"My Maman's name is Apolline, Draco," Gaby said, suddenly serious. She looked him dead in the eye, and grabbed his lapels on either side of his jacket. Pulling him closer, she said, "And no, I am not letting you wander about …on your own, getting all up in your own 'ead, before lunch."  
"Huh?"  
"Okay, no bullsheet, zen. Zis iz ze deal, Draco: you are wound so tight, you're going to snap. Eet's obvious. So…you're going to come wiz your sweet couzzin Gaby, you are going to drink some firewhiskey wiz me, and you are going to loosen ze fuck up!"  
"I…"  
"Non!" She released his coat, opening the warded gates. "Come. I will accept no nonsense to ze contrary."  
He stood there looking at her, torn.  
Gaby rolled her eyes, and stomped back to him, grabbing him by the hand and yanking him in. Sensing his reticence, she turned back, and looked at him, and laughed.  
"Oh, and by ze way? Veela, az a species, so you know…are vegetarian. I was just…'ow you say? Breaking your balls."  
"What?" He cried out. "You little minx!" He rushed over to her, and pretended to choke her.  
Then he felt something weird…yet, wonderful. He felt her tiny hands wrap around the back of his coat, encircling him at the waist. She then squeezed him…it felt like, rather…  
Gaby was… hugging him.  
Not realizing the sheer amount of stress he had bottled up over the last several months, he sighed into her strangely calming embrace. He took his hands from around her neck, and slid them down her back. He released a breath he didn't know he was holding. Somehow, this strange, beautiful, funny, bawdy and wholly inappropriate woman had sensed what he needed, exactly, in that moment. More so, than his closest friends, or any of his family….anyone really. Who would ever dare to hug Draco Malfoy?  
Gaby Delacour…that's who.  
He didn't know if she was ignorant of his past, ignorant in general, or aware…and just indifferent to the past; but he didn't care. For the first time out side of his mother, he felt truly cared for.  
All from a stranger's touch.  
They stood there, Gaby and Draco, embracing. Both seemed uncaring that they were in full view of anyone entering Hogwarts, in each other's grasp. It wasn't until they heard a familiar Scottish lit ring out, that they finally broke apart.  
"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes, Mr. Malfoy!"  
He bowed his head, in respect. "Headmistress McGonagall. Good morning, Ma'am."  
She smiled. "Please tell me," she began, eyes drifting towards her Magical Creatures professor, "that this is not foreshadowing of another union between the two of your families?"  
Her eyes twinkled in amusement as she caught their blush.  
Gaby withdrew from Draco's arms, sliding her hand from his back, down his arm, to grasp his hand. Entwining their fingers, she looked her Headmistress directly in the eye, and arched her sculpted eyebrow.  
"Union?" Gaby clarified. "Non! No union. Just fucking."  
Gaby smiled secretly at the startled look on Minerva's face, as she pulled Draco towards her quarters. Gaby merrily called out over her shoulder, "Oh, and Minerva? Eef you don't mind, if you see our mozzers…or sisters…or cousins…would you mind forgetting zat you saw us?"  
Minerva was shaking her head, trying her best to suppress a grin. "Of course, you cheeky witch! It shant be hard…. I'm actually trying to accomplish that very thing right in this moment anyway…"  
"Zank you, Minerva! We will be in my chambers…well, you know."  
As they left a rather flummoxed Minerva McGonagall in their wake, heading up to Chez Delacour and her firewhiskey collection, Draco whispered,  
"Gaby! What was all that about? I'm sorry, but I really….."  
She hit him upside his head. "Relax, Dracoid! I'm not fucking you! I just like to freak Minerva out, from time to time. Eet really iz one of ze small pleasures in life, oui? What do you zink?"  
She gave him a wink.  
He groaned. "What do I think? I think you are going to be a terrible influence, Gabrielle Delacour, and frankly? I cannot wait."  
 **XOXOXOXOXO**  
Cissy paced the room, lips pressed together.  
Honestly, it wasn't like her routinely prompt son to be so… late. Lene's attempts to reassure her were not working.  
"He's never late, Lene. I don't think this is tardiness…I fear," her face looked visibly pained, "that he's not coming."  
"Don't say zat!" Lene cooed. "Eef 'e zaid zat 'e's coming…zen 'e will."  
"Right, Cissy!" Fleur piped in. "We're still waiting, anyway. Not everyone's even here, yet! Gaby's totally late az well, cherie…not just your son! You don't seem concerned about 'er tardiness, oui?"  
Cissy cast her a knowing look. "Fleur, my dear, that's because….well, it's Gaby!" she explained, in an unspoken subtext of implied meaning. Cissy and Hermione exchanged a look of mutual understanding; a look silently conveying their shared memories of doing their a fare share of waiting and waiting, for their junior colleague.  
Lene chuckled, winking at her oldest daughter. The senior Veela mused "So, my little firefly Gaby? She still moves to ze beat of her own drum, ay? A beat zat she expects ze world must revolve around?" The expression she wore, looking towards Cissa and Hermione, was one that was clearly amused.  
Standing with her arms folded, Cissa, herself, wore a completely disgusted expression, in contrast.  
She did not appreciate lateness. It was a trait she despised…and one she had to be overly tolerant of, over the years, given her past with her eldest sister.  
Hermione, for her part, was a tad more charitable towards her spirited friend. "Well," Hermione offered tactfully, "…she means well. But…its rather as though Gabs uses the clock time as merely a suggestion, rather than a hard and fast guideline, per se."  
Fleur laughed. "Eet's Gabrielle's world, and we merely live in eet…."  
"Something like that," Hermione nodded, agreeing.  
Speak of the Devil, and she shall appear….  
As though on cue, the bawdy laughter of Lene's "little firefly" could be heard, outside. They heard Gaby, raucously tumbling down the hallway, concluding with alarming noises suggesting she was possibly crashing into a wall. They heard muffled voices and noises bellowing out.  
"Oooof!" A woman's voice exclaimed, presumably Gaby's, as best they could tell through the closed door—as the voice quickly burst out into laughter, afterwards. "I told you zat you could not carry me on your shoulders, ze entire way!"  
An unfamiliar, definitively male, voice responded to Gaby's taunt.  
"Oh, Sod off, you! You're a lot…denser, than you look! Are you carrying gold nuggets in your robes?"  
"Zere is more to me zen meetz ze eye, 'oid! What did I say about zee book and eet's shape?"  
The male voice snorted. "Bloody hell, for the seventh time, it's 'a book and it's cover', Gabs, not a book and its bloody shape!"  
The presumed Gabrielle huffed, suggesting further it really was Gabrielle, making noises of righteous indignation.  
"Zat's what I mean! Zis ees ze problem wiz you English in ze first place…! You people don't give a damn about ze shape!"  
"What?" The man asked, making a racket while it sounded like he tried to pull to a stand, and clearly failing. More clatter was heard, followed by their laughter. "Ouch! And….what are you babbling about, about the shape?"  
"What do you mean… 'what about ze shape'? I mean, you git, look at zis shape! Look at me! I mean, really? Eet's insane…I am perfection!"  
The man was groaning, laughing, and hiccupping….all at the same time, in response. "Noooooo! Not this again!"  
"My point exactly!"  
There was more clattering, as one or the other attempted to stand, or something, with more noise following, and the sound of a slap, followed by the male's exclamation of protest.  
"Oy!" The male voice complained, "Stop slapping my ass, you arse!"  
"Stop sticking eet out, zen!"  
As the two broke off into more pearls of self-amused laughter, Narcissa's eyes went wide as saucers. The blonde's eyes locked on Hermione's equally stunned brown ones, in a mutual recognition.  
"Merlin's Beard…is that…?" Hermione mumbled. "No, no way! That's…that would be…impossible…" Hermione's face registered complete shock. She looked at Narcissa with an questioning expression. Her eyes questioned Narcissa.  
With a grimace, Narcissa nodded, and stood to her full pure-blooded, and very regal, height.  
"Yes, Hermione, I agree, I have no idea how this could have possibly transpired. But… I have a very strong suspicion that the commotion outside our doorway sounds an awful lot like…my son. My son…and Gaby."  
"Your son and Gaby? Really? Zat racket? Eet sounds like some drunken fifth years!" Fleur mused, snickering listening to the pratfalls outside.  
Fleur immediately stopped when a steely glare was shot at her by both her mate and Healer Black.  
Narcissa straightened her shoulder, chin up. "Well Fleur, I think you got one part of that correct!" Narcissa said, haughtily, as she marched over to the door. Gripping the handle as though she wanted to wring its neck and choke it to death…manually, without the use of a wand, Narcissa Black threw open the door in the precise moment that Draco Malfoy and Gabrielle Delacour were leaning forward to knock on the very same door.  
Narcissa, elegant as always, stepped back, immediately, and without difficulty.  
Draco and Gaby, however, were not nearly as graceful. Instead the two surprised guests tumbled forward, the door being suddenly flung open, and fell on top of each other in a heap on the floor, both of them with hands up prepared to knock.  
They looked at each other, and grinned, cracking themselves up.  
Then, they looked around, four sets of female eyes bearing down on them, in vary levels of amusement.  
"Merde!" Gaby whispered, under her breath.  
"You got that right!" Draco hissed back.  
Walking over to stand next to the appalled Narcissa, Hermione stood, and folded her arms across her chest. Looking down, she said with a clear distain,  
"Well! I see you're as graceful as ever…..Malfoy."  
He looked up, meeting her glance from the floor. Growling he said, "…and I see you've still got that stick wedged up tight in your arse, Granger!" He snapped back.  
Fleur immediately rose to stand, flanking her mate, protectively. "What did you say, about 'ermione?" She hissed, as she moved to stand between him and Hermione, her hands on her hips.  
Apolline threw her hands in the air. "Mon Dieu…and so eet begins!" She muttered.  
The tension was finally dissolved by Gaby's pearls of bawdy laughter as she slapped Draco on the arm, lightly. "You zere! What did I tell you, Dracoid?" She scolded, playfully, as she pulled his wand out of his pocket, and proceeded to whack him on the back of the head with it.  
"Non, non, non!" Her continued outbursts of the word "non" were syncopated in time with the whacking noises of Draco being hit with the butt of his own wand.  
"….Non!" She concluded. "None of zat! Only ze 'ugs and kisses today, none of zis being an arsehole! Only ze 'ugs! Only ze kisses!"  
"Stop that!" He protested, yanking his wand back from the excitable younger witch, and throwing an elbow up to shield his body. "I hate it when you do that!"  
"Aww!" She stuck out her lower lip, at him.  
"Oy!" He relented, seeing the pout. "Okay, Gaby, fine! But," Draco added,"…can I kiss just her," He asked, pointing at Fleur, "… and not Granger, though?"  
"Excuse me?" Hermione fumed, as she balled up her hands into fists. "What did you just say, ferret?"  
"Hermione, dear…" Narcissa said, gently, putting a calming arm around her shoulder. Looking down at the furious Gryffindor, she prodded, gently. "…remember what you promised me?"  
Hermione looked up at Cissy, eyes guilty. "Sorry, Cissy." She mumbled. "I'm sorry…I'll try."  
Narcissa smiled warmly. "Thank you, dear."  
Hermione smiled back.  
Draco, however, looked like he might be ill, watching the lovefest between his Mother, and Granger. While he had visited his mother occasionally in the past, it had always been in private, and he never had had the …experience, of interacting with her new "best friends." It was a bit of culture shock, for the former Slytherin. Turning to Gaby, he pulled them both to standing, and muttered quietly to her, "Well, lookie there. Looks like Mother finally got the daughter she always wanted…"  
Gaby leaned over, whispering conspiratorially, "She wanted a daughter? Vraiment? Iz zat why you act zo effeminate, doudou?"  
It was his turn to take her wand, and proceed to whack her on the backside with it, instigating another round of laughter from the youngest Delacour. Waiving her arms like a bumblebee, she groaned.  
"Stop, stop, you maniac! I waz only keeding!"  
He smirked, giving her back her wand, handle side first.  
"Zank you!" She sniffed, straightening her robes, as she took her wand back. She stuck her tongue out at him. "Doudou."  
A familiar voice cleared their throat. Narcissa was…unimpressed.  
Draco straightened up, immediately. The two delinquents looked around the room and the gravity of the moment settled in on them both. Narcissa and Hermione wore matching expressions, but thankfully, Fleur's had returned to a more relaxed, amused one, her eyes meeting that of her sisters'. Fleur quietly hissed rapid French, in a loud whisper to Gaby, "Soeur de bébé... me dire que vous n'ayez pas de relations sexuelles avec lui, déjà!"  
Gaby chose to respond, in loud English. "No, sister…we 'ave not fucked. Yet. But 'e iz razzer cute!"  
His face turned pale. "Oh, Merlin…" he mumbled. Averting his eyes, he turned something…anything…to change the subject. He looked down, at his outstretched hand, almost incoherently.  
His hand.  
Oh, his hand!  
"Oh, hello there, Fleur," Draco said, his gaze firmly on Fleur and not anywhere near his mother or Apolline, and especially not Granger, mumbled, "You're kinda leaving me hanging, here…."  
"Oh! Merde! Sorry…" Fleur snapped out of her shock, and immediately took the offered hand. "Eets nice to make your acquaintance, Draco." She said, politely.  
"For me, as well, Fleur." He said, shaking her hand. He smiled, genuinely. "I look forward to getting to know you. Gaby speaks quite highly of you."  
"Oui."  
Next, came the inevitable. Sighing, he looked at the woman standing next to her, and shoved his hand out, stiffly.  
"Granger." He stated, strained, practically wincing in pain.  
She took his hand, and shook it, equally strained as he. "Malfoy." She replied, sounding just as awkward as the Slytherin.  
They looked at each other, for a moment. "You look, uh… well, Granger."  
"You look…uh, yeah…that."  
With a concluding nod, he moved on. With the exception of dreaded childhood nemesis to the contrary, the young man demonstrated why he was such an excellent barrister and businessman—Draco was charming.  
He gracefully maneuvered over towards Apolline, and took her offered hand, kissing its surface.  
"Enchantee, Madame." He said. "I take it you are Madame Delacour?"  
"Oui, I am 'appy you made eet. Bonjour, Draco….I am Apolline Delacour."  
"Delighted." He said. "I'm so pleased to meet you. I will admit, I struggled with this, in the beginning…" he cast a look at his mother's pained face, "I hope you will understand my issues were not personal. It's just that's its been Mother and I, against the world, for such a long time…"  
Apolline placed at hand, against the boy's cheek, and held it there.  
He felt warmth spread, from the surface of her palm, and snake through his skin, infusing the pleasant comfort of warmth and caring and a peacefulness, as it ebbed though his very body.  
"Ye Gods…" he murmured.  
Apolline looked at him, appraisingly. "And yet…your 'eart iz still not…resolved. I can feel eet." She patted him on the cheek. "I 'ope, wiz time, zat will change, Draco."  
He smiled, but Narcissa noticed it did not reach his eyes.  
 **XOXOXOXOXO**  
Lunch passed with only a few snits between Draco and Hermione, and many more inappropriate comments from Gaby, followed by admonishments from her big sister or Maman.  
As expected, Draco was polite and attentive, but noticeably withdrawn, at least, from Narcissa's perspective. She understood that this was lot for him to take in, and was trying to respect that.  
"Eesen't zis wine delicious, Dracoid? I just luv your mozzer's wine."  
"A lot." Narcissa confirmed, amused.  
"I am French!" Huffed Gaby. Then, she was echoed by Hermione's imitation as they both protested, "and I am Veela!"  
Gaby's head shot up. "Hey!"  
Fleur and Hermione were snickering.  
Hermione continued, waving her arms with flourish. "Not a siren! A Veela! Get zat zrough your damn zick skull!"  
"That's enough, Granger." Draco said, quietly, eyes looking at Gaby.  
Hermione's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"  
Gaby looked at Draco. "She was just playing, eet's okay, Dracoid."  
"There's no need for… teasing, that's all." He said, to Gaby.  
Hermione's face was cool fury.  
"Merlin's beard, who the hell are you, and what have you done with Draco Malfoy? You know, the arse that made fun of me, every single day of our entire school life?"  
"I've apologized, for that—"  
Hermione's eyes flashed angrily at him, then Gaby. "Don't let him put on airs, Gaby. This one?" She gestured at Draco, "I can hear you still, as though it were yesterday, Malfoy! 'No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood.' Or another….'Saint Potter, the Mudbloods' friend, he's another one with no proper wizard feeling, or he wouldn't go around with that jumped-up Granger Mudblood.' "  
"'ermione…" Fleur coaxed, putting her hand lovingly on Hermione's thigh under the table. She hated seeing her mate like this, in pain, and anger.  
"It's not like you didn't dish it out, Granger."  
Hermione interrupted. "Never like you did, Malfoy! How about your sensitivity during the Triwizard tournament, Draco? You know, when you said, 'Granger, they're after Muggles…'D' you want to be showing off your knickers in midair? Because if you do, hang around ... they're moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh.'"  
He hung his head, but she didn't stop.  
"….'Keep that big bushy head down, Granger!' How about the time when Viktor Krum asked me to the Yule Ball, you asked Ron, 'You're not telling me someone's asked that to the ball? Not the long-molared Mudblood!' So really, Draco, spare me the lecture…you're the last one, who should sit in judgment of me!"  
The table was silent.  
Narcissa placed a reassuring hand on top of her son's.  
"Hermione, that's enough. Please…" She said, quietly. "I think we all have times that we wish we could have…done better."  
Hermione nodded, and merely sipped her tea.  
"I suppose, Narcissa."  
The awkward silence continued, as the house elves brought the first course, and they ate in relative silence. As they cleaned the service and prepared for the main course, the youngest Delacour looked around the room.  
"Well!" Proclaimed Gaby, slapping her hands on the table. "Zis 'as been some good times, non?"  
Draco looked at her glumly, as he ate his soup.  
XOXOXXOXO  
It was a testament to Apolline's diplomatic skills that by the time dessert was served, the conversation amongst the table was amicable. One does not run the largest Veela clan in Europe, of nearly 20,000 members, without picking up an ambassador's skill, or two along the way.  
Although Draco and Hermione avoided directly interacting, the conversation was spirited, and certainly more even-tempered. Draco seemed interested in the Delacour family, asking many questions of Lene. This is how they learned she had an older brother and a younger brother, but because Veela clans are run by females only, the mantle of the Delacour title fell to her.  
"So, does that mean Fleur is next in line?"  
"Oui, zank ze Gods!" Gaby said, in genuine relief. "She 'as been ze 'eir apparent since she waz born!"  
Draco looked at Fleur, sympathetically. "That seems like a lot of responsibility to be burdened with, early on."  
Fleur's eyes flashed, oddly enough, with mirth. "Eet iz what it iz, Draco. I don't know what eet's like to not grow up wizout zat expectation."  
"My little flower," Apolline said, proudly. "So strong! I 'ave to say…she's been ready, since she waz four, Draco."  
Hermione was smiling, eyes fixed on Fleur, pride written all over her face.  
Fleur shoo'ed her Maman's complement away. "Eeh! Not to 'ear my cousin Simone tell eet!"  
"Bah! Simone." Apolline frowned.  
"Who's Simone?" Hermione asked, looking between the Veela.  
Apolline's face was tense. "Simone iz ze oldest daughter of my oldest brozzer. 'e 'ad four daughterz, and one son."  
"Four pains-in-ze-asses and one fuck up." Gaby announced, taking a drink of wine.  
"Gabrielle Angelique Delacour…." Her Maman scolded, with a frown. "Zat iz not polite." She took a drink of wine. "Allzough true, eet iz most certainly…not polite."  
Fleur looked at Draco, explaining, "All four of my female cousins are older zan me, and when zey went to Beauxbatons? Zey made 'ermione look…relaxed."  
"Woah…" He nodded.  
"Zey all work in ze French Ministry, just like Uncle Robillard does. Anaïs and Adrianna work under 'im…"  
"Because zey would be fired if zey worked for someone else!" Gabrielle interjected.  
Fleur gave her a warning look. "Cousin Monique works in Veela international relations, and the oldest, Simone, was recently promoted to Vice-Deputy of Law Enforcement, for all of France."  
"Wow." Draco and Hermione acknowledged, both impressed.  
Fleur did not look impressed, however.  
"Quite an accomplishment….just ask her. She'll be quite 'appy to tell you." Fleur grinned. "She is very…'ow do you say….severe. And she 'as never been 'appy about ze fact she iz ze oldest cousin and 'ad ze misfortune to be born to a Veela male. She resents me, terribly."  
Apolline shook her head. "I don't zink zats true, entirely, Fleur."  
"Well…." Gaby said, mischievously, "…not until you stole 'er boyfriend, anyway." Gaby added, smirking, and again drinking wine.  
Narcissa looked at Fleur. "Fleur Isabelle!" She said, mock scandalized.  
Fleur waived off the healer. "Clearly, eet waz nozzing. I don't remember 'is name, even!" She extended her long sinewy arm, fingers grasping the stem of an empty glass. "Gaby, pour me some more of zat wine, please."  
Hermione was mulling over the discussion. "Fleur?"  
"Yes, my beautiful one?"  
"You said the youngest was a son…was that Armand, by any chance?"  
"Pwish." Lene said, dismissively. "A waste of oxygen, zat one."  
"The gent we met at the Delacour ball?"  
Fleur nodded.  
"He seemed… pleasant enough." Hermione offered, attempting to be positive.  
"We are not 'pleasant,' Hermione." Apolline said, a flash of warning in her eyes. "We are eizzer French, or Veela, or Delacours….but not 'pleasant enough.' Zat does not describe anyone in zis family. Nor do we squander ze birthright we were given."  
"Meaning…what?" Hermione asked, neutrally.  
Draco answered. "You should know this, Granger. It's a muggle quote. One of the American presidents, I think: 'For of those to whom much is given, much is required.' Meaning, you pay back."  
"Exactly, Draco." Apolline nodded, pleased he got the inference. "Armand squanders 'is gifts and skills, in ze pursuit of leisure, and little else. While I would not go so far to call 'im a disappointment, az my brozzer does, I zink 'e iz….still searching."  
Draco nodded. "I can appreciate that."  
 **XOXOXOXOXOXOX**  
Following lunch, Cissy and Draco walked the grounds of Hogwarts, and even he had to admit…the Delacours had style.  
He was relieved for it to be just the two of them; he finally felt like he wasn't being judged, or on display.  
"What did you think of lunch, son?"  
"It was fine." He said, neutrally.  
She looked at him, a wry grin on her face. "Draco Malfoy!" She scolded.  
"Okay, okay!" He sighed. "It sucked. It was awful…in the beginning. Granger was on me, like a rabid dog!"  
"One of the qualities I love about her…when not directed at my son, I suppose." She smiled.  
He shook his head as they continued to walk.  
"I don't get it, Mum. Why? Why do you love bloody Granger, so much, huh? And why does she have to be a part of this package!" He looked away, angry.  
"Oh, Draco…" Narcissa said, in understanding. She stopped walking, and pulled him into a tight embrace. "My precious Draco. I know this is a lot, dear, to take in. It's shocking enough, to see a parent move on…without your other parent."  
He nodded.  
"And then, I'm sure you're shocked more than you care to admit, that when I moved on, it was with a woman…"  
Again, the man nodded. "Well yes mother, that certainly came as a surprise."  
"And on top of it, a Veela. And a Delacour…"  
He looked around. "They could put the Blacks and the Malfoys to shame, couldn't they?"  
Narcissa nodded.  
"Mum, it's not Apolline exactly. She's pretty….boss, actually. I like her. I do. And, I think I like her for you, if you follow. She's an impressive woman," he said, musing, "one who can keep up with you, you know? I see how you two could…well, fit."  
Narcissa nodded, earnestly. "Thank you Draco"  
"And I like Fleur well enough. And, well, I'm arse over elbows about Gaby, I think you know that. She's the most fun I've had, in years, Mum."  
Narcissa arched an eyebrow, causing him to scowl.  
"Bloody hell, get your mind out of the gutter! I mean, she's fun, Mother! That's all. Nice. Funny."  
"I am well aware of Gabrielle Delacour's qualities, Draco. They are on display for me, nearly every night, this past year."  
He smiled. "So, as far as the Delacours go, I'm fine...oddly enough. Yes, it's a lot to take in, I suppose, but…at least you picked some good looking birds, to hang out with!" He grinned. "It's just…"  
He frowned, choosing to remain silent.  
Narcissa finished his sentence. "It's just it comes with a lot of unpleasant baggage, for you."  
"I don't like her, Mum."  
"I know."  
"I know you do…I know you adore her." He said, a tad more bitterly than he meant to.  
"Stop right there, Draco." She said, firmly. Her tone demanded compliance, and so he did.  
Narcissa put two hands on his shoulders, and looked up at him earnestly. "Oh, Draco….let me tell you this. I love Hermione. I absolutely do. She's amazing, son, and it pains me that you don't realize the person she is. But truthfully, you do seem to bring out the worst in each other. I told her she was acting like a little chit."  
"Thanks."  
"Draco," She continued, "As much as I love Hermione and Gaby and Fleur? Don't you know, you'll always be my number one? Always. No matter whom I marry, you will always be number one. That's not going to change."  
"Don't say that, you can't make promises."  
"Yes I can say that," she countered, "and I will! Because it's true. For so long, it was only you and I in a very insane world. Well, the world is no longer insane Draco. It's time to spread our wings, and migrate, son…."  
He looked sad.  
"But the thing about migrating, Draco?" She smiled, and placed a finger on his heart. "You always find your way home, every year. Always."  
"You know I love you, mom, right? I want you to be happy."  
"I know that."  
"And I feel…"  
"Guilty." Narcissa smiled, knowingly. "You know…you really should talk with Gaby. Not drink, talk. Have a serious heart to heart with her. You two…have a few things in common."  
"Really? Like what?"  
She pondered his question. "Well, you know….for one, you were both death eaters…"  
He scowled. "Mother!" He said, swatting her on the arm. "Not funny!"  
Narcissa seemed to think otherwise, as she chuckled merrily as they headed back towards the castle.  
"I know you are happy Mother. And I'm trying. Okay?"  
"Okay Draco. That's all I can ask. I love you."  
 **XOXOXOXOXOXOX**  
Draco was catching up on some work, reading a few briefs for a pleading he had to put together when he returned to work after the walk her had with his mother. He was so caught up in it, he didn't hear the soft footfalls behind him, then a wand tip nudge him in the arm.  
"Malfoy!"  
He jumped. "Bloody Hell! Granger!" He said, alarmed. "What the hell are you doing!"  
She rolled her eyes. "I'm not here to hex you, if that's what you're worried about. You'd be long dead already, if that were my intention."  
"Generous of you."  
"Yes. That's why they call me the Generous Girl."  
"I thought it was the Golden Girl?" He teased.  
"A common misconception. It's actually the 'generous' girl."  
He nodded. "Hmm."  
They looked at each other, for a pregnant moment. Finally, Hermione couldn't stand it any longer, and her reason for appearing in his personal space came vomiting out of her mouth.  
"Okay, so Gaby sent me."  
"Gaby? For what?"  
Hermione huffed. "I was sent, to retrieve you. She would like your presence in her bedroom."  
"What?"  
"Not like that, pervert! She says she has something to show you, and needs you to come now."  
"What is it?"  
Now Hermione was getting frustrated. "What, do I look like a human pensive? Get your arse up, and don't keep her waiting! Follow me, please."  
 **XOXOXOXO**  
As they walked the long corridors at Hogwarts, Hermione finally broke down, and apologized.  
"I'm sorry, Draco. I – I was out of line, at lunch. It was wrong of me to call you out, like I did."  
He looked surprised. "Thank you, Hermione. That was…unexpected."  
"Well, it won't happen again, so don't get excited."  
"Promise?"  
Now she stopped, completely. "Fine! Look, I hate you, you hate me—"  
He cut her off, softly. "I never hated you, Hermione."  
"What?"  
He looked up at her, and met her eyes. He was being serious. "I said, I never hated you. I was insanely jealous of you, yes; but hate? No. I never hated you. And I'm sorry that I acted like I did, when the reality was….I admired you. I admired your perseverance."  
Hermione stood there for a moment. "I don't know what to say."  
Draco shrugged, "you don't have to say anything. Just…I don't know. Just think about it…my position? I was taught all my life, rewarded…well, more like severely punished….if I didn't stick to those ideals. Mother wasn't exactly as forceful in my early childhood as she grew later to be."  
Hermione nodded, listening.  
"All I can say is, I'm trying, okay? I'm not perfect, but I am trying."  
She held out her hand. "Okay." She said, sounding resolved. "Then, I guess I should try, too."  
They laughed, both realizing they still had a ways to go.  
However, he felt unquestionably lighter when he finally arrived at the door to Gaby's room; as her reached to knock, he realized he was actually smiling.  
 **XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**  
"Where the hell are we, Gaby?" Draco asked, later that evening, looking around, mildly alarmed.  
"We are in ze red light district in London!" She declared, proudly.  
As if the visuals didn't attest to that fact already.  
"And why are we here, exactly?"  
Gaby explained, in rapid fire French-English. "My friend, Collette, from school iz making 'er singing debut tonight! I promised 'er I would come! So, to answer your questions, we are going to drink somezing, eat sometzing, hopefully fuck someone, and be .. somewhere!" She gushed.  
"Bollocks. This is going to be one of those situations where we get arrested, right?"  
She scowled. "Non! Arrested? " She shook her head, vehemently. "You may not feel my thrall, Monsieur. But I assure you, ze good constables of zis town, are not immune."  
"Bloody hell! Just make sure not to lose me."  
She scoffed. "Az if I would looze you wiz zat 'ead of 'air of yours! Eet glows in ze dark!"  
"I'd talk, little missy." He said, running his hand through her hair.  
She smiled, then something caught her eyes.  
"Zere eet iz! Ze tavern where Collette iz singing!" She grabbed his elbow, tugging furiously. "Come! Now!"  
"Why are we running?"  
"Why not?" She answered, matter of fact.  
 **XOXOXOXOXOXO**  
As fate would have it, Gabrielle Delacour was early, for the first time in her life. She had thought the 19:00 start time was a 17:00, and so they were a full hour and a half early.  
"I bet your friend will freak out when she sees you here, right at the crack of the curtain rising!"  
Gaby nodded seriously. "Eet will likely involve a small cardiac arrest. I should 'ave smuggled your Mozzer's dittany tonight."  
He laughed, and noticed the waiter approaching their table, again.  
"Salut, Thomas." Gaby gave a dazzling smile to the waiter.  
He nodded, drooling slightly. "Bon soir, Gaby!" He stared at her, until Draco cleared his throat. The sound snapped him awake, apparently, and he appeared startled. "I…uh, oh…what? Oh! Yes! This!" He held up a bottle of Merlot. "This one is from that gentleman," he pointed, "over there. With his complements, Mademoiselle Delacour."  
"Zank you, Thomas." She said demurely. "Zank 'im for me, please. Tell 'im, my male friend and I will enjoy eet, thoroughly." She winked, taking the expensive bottle off his hands.  
Playfully, she poured herself and Draco another generous glass.  
"Great Merlin, Delacour, you're going to get me drunk! Drinking with a Veela has its advantages….does this happen to you all the time?"  
She nodded, sadly. "All ze time."  
"Lucky you! Shit. You've probably never bought a drink in your life, have you?"  
She shook her head, no. "Not since my thrall developed, in puberty, no."  
"Why do you look so pissy, then?"  
She looked pained. "I would razzer 'ave to buy my own drink, and 'ave someone look at me, for me, Dracoid. Any day of the week."  
He rubbed her arm. "Aw, sweet baby Veela." He soothed, playfully. "Well, I'm looking at you, Sweets."  
She scoffed. "Oui. But you're gay, so eet dozzen't matter."  
He spit out the little wine that was left in his mouth. "What? Damn, Gaby, I told you…I am not a homosexual."  
"Me thinks ze lady does protest, too much…"  
"Oh, shut your pie hole already, Delacour. I like snatch, not dick." He looked away, glaring, refusing to give the giggling girl the satisfaction of looking. As he looked around, he noticed everyone looking at them.  
And not just at Gaby.  
"Ye Gods, people like to stare here." He muttered, taking a drink.  
"What do you expect? We are a good-looking couple. People like to look at pretty things."  
"Gaby," he began, "do you hear yourself, sometimes? I mean, do you realize, the words that are coming out of your mouth, and what they mean?"  
She gave him an insolent stare, across the table. "Tell me what was untrue."  
"Huh?"  
"I am attractive…you are attractive. People like to look at attractive."  
He shook his head, looking away. No one will accuse her of a lack of self-esteem, he marveled.  
The glint of something familiar caught his eye. The flash of a cufflink, in the lights. He looked up, and saw a face he recognized.  
"Hey," he hissed to Gaby. "That's Theo Nott's dad! What's he doing here?"  
"Who iz Theo Knott's dad?"  
Draco looked at her meaningfully. "He owns half of the manufacturing plants in England! Makes food-stuffs, mostly. Like Butterbeer, Fishy Green ale….oh! And chocolate caldron and chocolate frogs!"  
"Mmmm. I love chocolate…" Gaby lamented.  
He leaned over, closer. Whispering, he added, "…and he was also a follower of you-know-who."  
"What? I take eet back. I don't like chocolate, zat much. Vanilla is great, too." She looked around, nonchalantly, trying to get a good look at the former death eater. "Ew. He's…razzer 'arsh looking. So, 'ow iz 'e a former follower of you-know-who and walking ze streets, free?"  
Draco held up his hand, rubbing his fingers together. "Galleons talk, Gaby."  
She nodded, in understanding.  
"The formal explanation, of course, was that he was 'imperioused,' to commit his crimes. That excuse, plus many galleons and the fact he supplies the majority of the shops in Diagon Alley…"  
She waved him off, dismissively. "Say no more."  
He grimaced. "I wish I could hear what he's saying to that guy!"  
She arched an eyebrow. "You want to 'ear?" She said, grinning.  
"Well, yes….what are you going to do?"  
But she was ignoring him, her eyes closed, sending out pulses and pulses of thrall in his direction.  
"Hey, Mate? Let's take that table, over there." He said to his friend.  
And just like that, Mr. Nott was sitting in the booth behind them. Draco looked astounded, and Gaby merely looked pleased with herself.  
As a result of Gaby's potent thrall, they were privy to his conversation, without even using Legillimans! Draco hunkered down, listening.  
"Yes, old Mr. Prudehomme was none to pleased with me," Nott began.  
"Why?"  
"Cause the shipment was so late."  
"No it wasn't!" His irritated companion argued. "We just got this stock in!"  
"That's what I said!" He huffed.  
Gaby whispered, ''Mr. Prudehomme' was the man who owned Prudehomme's Piquant Pâtisserie, a new competitor to Honeyduke's candy shop." Draco nodded, still listening.  
"I told the moron we ourselves just got the frogs in two days ago! He accused me of lying, says I hold back on the supply network to hoard for myself! He said everyone's been waiting for these commemorative series chocolate frogs, and it make him look bad that they could apparate to another shop, and get 'em!"  
"Well, that's a load of hooch!" His guest paused. "But…are you, Nott?"  
"I wish!" Nott was drinking firewhiskey from the bottle. Classy guy, thought Draco. "No, they were delayed in printing. Fucking Hermione Granger…."  
Both of their ears, pricked up.  
"The mudblood?"  
"Yes." He growled. "Well, you can't have the 5 year anniversary commemorative series of the end of the war cards, without the entire Golden Trio, now, can ya?"  
"No. Did she hold out for more money?"  
"Oh, she got rich….again. No, that's not it. She had demands, this year." He blew, and slammed down another drink. "Bugger. She should be like the boys! That greedy chit Weasley, he doesn't care, as long as he gets paid. Potter, Mr. Golden Boy himself, is so busy in the Auror office, he doesn't have time to read anything. I just stick the release under his nose, and he signs, like a good boy, every year! But this year…Granger read the contract and release parchment end to end, and made demands!"  
"Like what?"  
"The inclusion of…others." They couldn't see his face, but they could feel his sneer.  
"Who?" His friend asked, greedily.  
"Can't say, I'm under contract. Buy the frogs. You'll see, eventually. The new cards are even more common then hers. But I got her, I did…"  
"How?"  
"I made HER card the least common one of all! Hah! Only 1 in 30 packs has the bloody Golden Girl's card, in it!"  
"Good thinking….you showed her!"  
Over their drunken laughs, Draco rolled his eyes. "Bloody idiot just make her card the most valuable one of all, stupid prat!"  
Gaby nodded. "I never traded zose cards in school, and even I knew zat! My friend traded 'er damn familiar for ze Agrippa card!"  
"Well, in her defense, its pretty rare…"  
They looked at each other, exchanging a knowing look. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"  
"Maybe…"  
Then, in an unspoken moment, Gaby grabbed the new bottle of wine, and the two pretty blonds raced out of the Tavern, apparating straight to Prudehommes Pâtisserie, to buy some chocolate frogs.  
XOXOXOXOXXO  
They were 30 packs in, and still hadn't got a Hermione Granger.  
What they had, however, was a stomachache, a lot of Ronald Weasleys, Albus Dumbledores, Morgan le Fays, and on pack 29, to Gaby's great delight, one Harry Potter.  
"Ugh!" Draco groaned, bringing another 25 packs to their table. "I'm going to vomit."  
"Moi aussi," agreed Gaby, looking a little green.  
They opened, and opened, to no avail.  
Then, Gaby looked up, noticing the shocked expression on Draco's face.  
"What? What iz eet, Dracoid?"  
Tears were forming in his eyes, as he held up the card, to show his partner in chocolate crime.  
Gaby's eyes went wide, as she read the card Draco was holding.

**NARCISSA BLACK (nee MALFOY) (b. 1955- )**   
_Narcissa Black was thought to play a pivotal part in the war. She singlehandedly turned the tide of the war by bravely reporting, falsely, that Harry Potter had died to Lord Voldemort, when he was very much alive at great peril to herself. This was the sentinel moment that led to the victory of the Battle of Hogwarts, as reported by Harry Potter later. She enjoys cooking, wine, and healing; currently she is a Professor at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry on faculty as the Head Healer. She has one son, Draco._

The chocolate frog jumped away, rudely, as Draco stared at the card, hands trembling. Gaby had tears rolling down her face, as well.  
"Fucking Granger…." He muttered. "Fucking __Granger…"  
He wiped the tears from his eyes, and looked at Gaby. "I want to go show Mum!"  
"Oh, no you don't!" Gaby reached over, grabbling his lapel. She looked at him with furious eyes. "Not until we get ze fucking Hermione Granger card, in our 'ot little 'ands, and after we 'ear Collette sing at least one fucking song, comprendez-vous?"  
"It's essential, we get a Hermione Granger?" Draco squeaked, his stomach protesting.  
"Absolutely essential." Gabby nodded.  
 **XOXOXXOXOXOXXOX**  
Eighty-nine frogs later, they finally had their Golden Girl.  
Gaby squealed in delight, holding the card aloft, proclaiming, "I've got eet! Ze Golden Girl!"  
Immediately she was descended upon by a dozen or so children, of various ages. A few adults scurried over, joining the fray.  
Gaby had a bidding war on her hand, the amounts going up and up that people offered her to buy the card from her.  
A rather sleazy looking man with a large camera said, "I'll give you one hundred galleons, for that card, Mademoiselle."  
"One hundred galleons? That's insane!" Draco commented.  
His outburst caused a few kids to notice him, and what he had. A boy of roughly 12 or 13 years of age tugged on his robes.  
"Hey Monsieur? Iz zat Narcissa Malfoy? I'll give you 12 chocolate cauldrons for zat! Zat's rare!"  
He looked down at the boy, smiling.  
"Sorry, son. Not for all the gold in Gringott's. This card is promised, to someone."  
 **XOXOXOXOXXO**  
They made it back to the tavern, even before Collette went on, and both Draco and Gaby enjoyed the plentiful attentions of Witches and Wizards…for both.  
Gaby shrugged, "When you're sexy, you're sexy. What can I zay?"  
Draco shook his head, smiling. He realized he really liked this insane witch; she was the first person he really felt happy around, in a long time.  
And the firewhiskey just kept on coming….  
When they finally stumbled back to Hogwarts, at an obscenely late hour of the morning, they were eager to share their findings with Draco's mother.  
Regardless of the fact it was 3am.  
Narcissa and Lene were startled by a rather insistent pounding on their bedroom door.  
Lene let them in, despite her mates vigorous protests.  
"Cissa, eets not like we were sleeping sexy one…" Lene grinned, getting out of bed to put on a robe to cover her very naked body. Cissy refused to get out of bed. She just got her mate back and did not want to be interrupted. She huffed, pulling the covers up to her chin.  
Throwing open the door, Lene stared down her firefly and Draco.  
"Merlin! She's scary!" Draco drunk whispered to Gaby.  
"Who are you telling, Dracoid?" She pushed past her Maman. "Scuze us, Maman! We need to see Cissy!" She declared, quickly tripping and falling on the carpet.  
"Mon Dieu! When did you install zis carpet, so close to my face?" She asked, seriously.  
"Up, Goof!" Draco hoisted her up. "Mum!" He shouted.  
Narcissa frowned. "I'm right here, dear. In my bed. Where I should be. At 3am. No need to shout."  
As he rushed over to his mother, completely ignoring the fact that she could easily be naked under the covers, he fished around in his pockets, in his drunken stupor. "iz right here, I swear…."  
"Gaby!" Hissed Apolline. "Stop bursting in to bedrooms! Little girl, 'ave you not learned your lesson? We just finished 'aving sex, like, fifteen minutes ago!"  
Gaby shrugged. "You'll want to see zis, Maman…"  
Apolline waived her hands in front of her face. "You smell like a brewery, Gabrielle!" She frowned, disapprovingly. "A chocolate brewery. Wait, did you go to a chocolate brewery?"  
Gaby giggled. "A very long story. Not get over zere, and look, damn it!"  
Soon, Narcissa and Lene both had tears in their eyes, as Draco recounted the story, with Gaby's colorful interjections.  
"Hermione Jean Granger!" Narcissa mused.  
Apolline looked skeptical. "Cissa, you 'ad no idea? None?" Cissy shook her head. "But I don't understand? Zey 'ave to 'ave you sign a release form….permission…."  
Narcissa's eyes went wide.  
"That little sneak!" She muttered. "Last month, when I was in the thick of dealing with casualties from the Slytherin-Ravenclaw match, she comes waltzing into the ward, whips a paper under my nose, for the 'facility compliance policy adherence training' she claimed. I was too busy to read it, so I signed and she snatched it away!"  
"Mother," laughed Draco, and spoke a bit loudly in his state, "How many times have I told you? Don't sign anything without reading it!"  
"But, it was Hermione…"  
"Exactly!" He said. "We shall go find her. Them. That Golden One. Right now. I need to thank her."  
"Non!" "No" the mates both rapidly spoke.  
"Lizen you two, zey are sleeping. Or maybe not sleeping, but really, you two are lucky you did not arrive 15 minutes earlier to our room. You would not want a repeat show, would you Firefly? Zo leave zem be! You will see zem in ze morning." Lene stated directly to the two drunken little ones.  
Gaby looked genuinely disappointed.  
"Merde!" She held her Hermione card out. "I wanted to 'ave 'er autograph zis!"  
Draco pulled out her wand, whacking her.  
"Stop it, weirdo! Now, come on, let's go to your room. You promised to help me get these chocolate stains out of my robes!"  
"Oui, zat I did!" With a kiss to each of her mother's cheeks, she bid both good night, dragging Draco behind her. Gaby being Gaby, despite her lack of sobriety, thought it would be a good idea to one up the matriarch.  
"Okay, Maman!" She hollered. "We are out ze door! You may promptly resume your position back between Draco's Mommy's legs now!"  
XOXOXOXOXXO  
As the two drunk blondes stumbled their way back to Gaby's quarters, Draco spent the entire journey hitting Gaby with her own wand for the mental picture she had rendered upon leaving their mother's room.  
Certainly, the floggings were not helping them, in the whole "walking" endeavor, either. Finally, after much laughing and commotion, and Draco deducting multiple points from Beauxbatons by virtue of Draco's self-proclaimed "power vested in him by the Commonwealth of England," they arrived at Chez Gaby.  
Maybe.  
Gaby was fairly certain that it was Chez Gaby.  
But, she reasoned, one can never be sure about zes sneaky, sneaky doors…  
Gaby spent a full ten minutes fumbling with her wards and door attempting to get in, and was finally successful to the annoyance of them both. Once inside, Gaby headed straight to the kitchenette pulling out another bottle of firewhiskey. Holding it above her head like the Snitch, she declared they would "keep ze night going…and going, like respectable sexy blonde people!"  
She eyed the grinning boy in her living room. Who ever would have thought that Dracoid would be this wonderful?  
Which is how they found themselves, the two blondes, on the couch, drinking further and slumped together in various states of undress. Littering her room, were shoes thrown off, outer robes on the floor, ties cast off, as they drunkenly reminisced about Collette's performance, earlier that evening.  
"Are all of your friends that fucking sexy Gabs?" Draco said excitedly. "Because if they are, I may never leave your side again! Ever. Not only could that woman sing, but the tits on her…!" Draco drunkenly mumbled.  
"Oui, bien sur! I make eet a rule zat I only associate wiz ze finest of ze fine…of, uh….fine, my friend. I like my peoplez and my wine to be ze best. I will settle for nozing else. And oui, she does have razer fine tits. You should see them uncovered, mmmm, zat was a fun night…" she rambled on.  
Funnily enough, it appeared she was serious. He snorted in appreciation. "Oh Gods, Gabs, tell me more. Details, tell me details. I could so get use to this," Draco laughed.  
The drunken blondes sat watching the fire for a moment, and then Draco turned to Gaby.  
"You are pretty wonderful, Gaby. Thank you for today."  
"Iz okay! You're 'ot, Dracoid. Az I mentioned, I only associatez wiz ze finest. You meet my criteria, so eet waz nozing."  
They sat, staring into each other's eyes for a moment, contemplating the situation they had found themselves in. With alcohol coursing through their bodies, they both felt overcome. It had been an arousing evening, to say the least, and they were both, quite frankly, pretty easy on the eyes.  
The tension was slowly building between the two.  
"Gaby…" Draco stated. He reached out, his hand finding her arm, slowly dragging his fingers over her exposed skin. "So soft…"  
"Oui…" Gaby husked out.  
And then suddenly, like moths to a flame, their mouths crashed onto one another's. In quick movements of fury, passion, and lust, his hands flew to her hair; hers immediately went to his waist, as she pulled them together, while tongues sought entrance into the other's mouths.  
Nothing else in the world mattered at that moment, as the two blondes grasped and kissed each other, desperately…

**TBD. (OMGs. Don't kill us. We hope our Umbridge-like tactics have taught you about not reviewing…. ;) R &R – XO!)**


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